


We Don't Break, We Bend

by LyricalKris



Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-04
Updated: 2012-07-02
Packaged: 2017-11-09 01:26:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 102,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/449719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LyricalKris/pseuds/LyricalKris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the man who's supposed to love them hurts them, and the people who are supposed to save them won't listen, it falls on their shoulders to not just survive, but save each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: As Heaven is Wide

**Author's Note:**

>   
> 
> 
> [](http://s118.photobucket.com/albums/o82/lyricalkris/Twilight%20Fanfic%20Stuff/?action=view&current=wedontbreak.png)

**READ THIS FIRST. This story has very, very dark themes. At no point am I ever trying to make light of the subjects you will find here. Among them, physical, emotional and, later, sexual abuse. I have tried to deal with this story in as realistic a way as I know possible. As a survivor of physical and emotional abuse, some of these incidents are based on personal experience. The rest are based on countless psychology books I've read, and personal stories I've heard through my mother who was a psychologist and social worker for many years. I am not trying to present a reality that this happens in all foster homes. I know it doesn't. However, everything that takes place here has its basis in reality.**

**So again, you've been warned. Dark themes lie ahead. It was hard for me to write, so I'm sure it could be very hard for you to read. PLEASE do both of us a favor and leave now if this isn't what you want to read about. Believe me, I'll understand.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own these beautiful characters, Stephenie Meyer does. I love them. I really, really do.**

Chapter 1 – Prologue: As Heaven is Wide

_**" If holy is as holy does  
This house will burn straight down to hell  
Take its conscience with it as it falls  
Nothing said could change the fact  
My trust was blind, you broke the pact  
If god's my witness god must be blind"  
\- As Heaven is Wide, Garbage**_

James Whitlock was, on the outside, what appeared to be every woman's dream. As a high school senior he was good looking, charming and very smart. He was a quarterback on Houston High School's successful football team. He got good grades. He volunteered at the local hospital at least once a week.

In his senior year he befriended and dated Maria Gatell. For a year she had been the subject of much of the school's gossip. Originally from Arizona, all that was really known about her was that her parents were dead and she lived with an Uncle.

James hadn't been like the other kids who stared or made fun of her. He seemed to genuinely care. He listened and she told all of her secrets. How her parents had been drug users. How they'd fought all the time. How her father had killed her mother one day, when Maria was at a friend's house, before turning the gun on himself. How she'd come to live with her father's brother, who was negligent at best and more than a little irritated at having a teenager in his life.

They dated all through senior year and they seemed like the ideal couple. During their first year of college, Maria got pregnant and James married her. James was from a wealthy family, so Maria dropped out to care for their son, Jasper James Witlock, while James continued to go to school.

It seemed, to all, like a happy story, even if the couple in question was a little young for parenthood and marriage. But if they had looked any closer, they would have seen James for who he was, even then.

They would have seen that, when he held her, James often whispered to Maria that he was the only one who would ever love her; who  _could_ ever love her. They would have noticed that, when she tried to go out with other people a few times, he would get angry and shun her until she begged and pleaded and promised that he was the most important person to her.

The truth of the matter was that Maria was a troubled girl and James preyed on her weaknesses, her fear of abandonment and of being unloved, until she was compliant to his every whim. And compliant she was, until there was someone in her life even more important than James, who she loved with everything she had.

As more and more of Maria's time was taken by baby Jasper, James grew more and more impatient. The summer after his second year of college, when Jasper was just 3 months old, James left for a "break" to visit his old friends in his hometown of Forks, WA.

He didn't come back.

Maria was devastated. His words that no one would ever love her besides him echoed in her mind day after day. The fear and loneliness almost drove her under. Except that there was someone who meant more to her than James ever could, meant more than her own life.

At first, Maria lived for Jasper.

Using the money James' parents provided for her silence, Maria went to school, and then on to a fulfilling job. She sought counseling to deal with her grief. With her counselor's help she started to understand the difference between love and manipulation.

More than that, she began to remember the things James had told her about the heavy-handed way he'd been raised, and his strict ideas on how a child should be brought up. She was horrified at the life she easily could have doomed her son to.

She started to realize she had dodged a bullet.

But when Jasper was 12 there was a car accident. The same accident that left Jasper with scars littering his face, torso, arms and legs also killed Maria Whitlock.

Having never gotten around to divorcing her husband officially, custody of Jasper Whitlock automatically went to his father. This was how James ended up with a scarred and traumatized child in his care.

Right away, Jasper's soft-spoken attitude and demeanor irritated James. The boy was too quiet, lacking the confidence James felt men should carry themselves with. He had been raised to be respectful and so for a little while, James had no reason to raise a hand to the boy. But there was a volatile storm that was brewing between them. Jasper was a very observant child, and he knew there was something off about his father.; something that made him nervous and jumpy. It was only a matter of time before James snapped.

When it happened, Jasper stayed home from school for a week while the bruising went down.

Whenever James would beat his son, he told him how his mother had raised him wrong; that there was something missing from his character having been raised by a woman. He told the boy that he needed to toughen up and be a man. Minds are not as sturdy as bodies. Little by little, Jasper's mind started to believe his father's vicious words. Without anyone to turn to, Jasper might have eventually been lost.

His salvation came at another's expense.

James worked at the hospital as one of the orderlies; just another in a long list of deceptions that made anyone on the outside believe he was a fine, upstanding citizen. He was working, one evening, when then 13 year old Edward Masen was brought in needing stitches. He'd been in a fist fight with one of the other boys in his foster home. James learned that night that young Edward had been in and out of four different foster homes in the last year between Forks and Port Angeles. The boy's social worker, looking frustrated and harried, confided in James that the trouble was that there were not enough foster homes in the area, and the group homes only seemed to get Edward into more trouble.

Peeking in at the teenager, James thought he just needed to be taken down a peg or two. The boy held himself with an arrogance that told James he didn't know the meaning of respect for his elders.

A plan began to formulate in James' head. A lifetime of spending as he pleased had, by that time, sapped his considerable funds. He now worked because he needed to, and he was always looking for a way to supplement his income. It was one of the reasons he had agreed to take his son in - the boy had inherited all of his mother's money.

Jasper had also told him of his mother's profession. Maria had been a social worker, finding peace in helping children as troubled as she had once been. He knew that one could make a decent amount of money opening their home to a foster child. He spoke to Edward's social worker about becoming a foster parent, and then he went home and told his son to help him get the house in order.

At first, Jasper refused. The idea of someone else sharing his life was sickening to the boy, even at 14. Worse, it felt like a perversion of his mother's memory. His mother had worked so tirelessly to do her part in helping kids get placed with the right family. Jasper knew that his family was not the right family for Edward Masen. It wasn't the right family for anyone.

In the end, though, what could he do besides sit quietly as the social workers inspected the house? He knew what his father looked like on the outside. He was charming, hardworking and kind. He told the story that his wife had left him and had never told him that she was pregnant. He told everyone how happy he was to have his son. He answered all of their questions just the right way. He had been fortunate to get his son back. He wanted to help other troubled children. He told them how Jasper's mother had pretty much let him run wild, but with James' patience and the right amount of discipline, Jasper had become the polite, well-behaved fourteen year old they'd met that day.

Edward moved into the house only a couple of weeks later. Angry at the world, he told Jasper to fuck-off almost immediately, denying Jaspers attempts to befriend him. It didn't take him long to get in James' face - something James' swore to make him regret. James always followed through on his promises.

He was careful not to leave any bruises on the boy's body where the visiting social worker might see.

Jasper tried to encourage Edward not to antagonize James, but Edward was a stubborn boy. The altercations between James and him grew more violent until, two months after Edward had come to live with them, James dislocated his shoulder as he threw the boy to the ground.

Afterward, when Edward stumbled into the room they shared, he slumped against the wall, clutching his injured arm. Jasper said very little as he helped the younger boy pop his arm back into his socket. Edward had muffled his scream of agony against Jasper's shoulder, knowing if James heard they might both get in trouble. Shaking and crying, Edward had finally let Jasper in.

He told the older boy that his parents, Edward Sr. and Elizabeth, had been very good parents, but had been arrested one night. As he had no other family, Edward had been placed in foster care. He told Jasper that he had not believed it when the social workers told him his parents were thieves. He had been so angry.

It was only three months after that that James had taken in another foster child with a history - Isabella Swan, also 13. Bella's father had died in a shoot-out a few months previous and her mother, having been in and out of the girl's life since she was just a baby, could not be reached to claim her. She had been kicked out of her first foster home after being accused of stealing a necklace from her foster mother's daughter.

James had questioned her about the incident only days after her arrival, making sure she knew that such things would not be tolerated in his house. Raised to be honest above anything else, Bella told him that it was her necklace and Jane, her foster mother's daughter, had stolen it from her. When Bella stole it back, Jane had told her mother that Bella was the thief. James warned her not to lie, gripping her chin tightly in his hand. Scared at the coldness in James' eyes and frustrated that no one believed her despite the fact she was telling the truth, Bella had insisted again that she was innocent.

Jasper and Edward could do nothing but listen helplessly, both of their stomachs twisting with a sick anxiety. They had both seen, from the few days she had been there, that Bella was more innocent and naive than either of them had been. She'd been sheltered by her father who had been a cop. Jasper had been raised to respect and cherish girls. It made him feel powerless and wrong to just let James hurt her. On the other hand, Edward was positively livid. He was angrier than Jasper could remember seeing him. He had known Bella for years. From the moment she had walked through their door, he had wanted desperately to protect her. The fact that he couldn't had him clenching his fists in rage as he sat on his bed.

They heard, very clearly, when Bella let out a frightened shriek. There was the muffled sound of James yelling and then a loud, steady smacking sound punctuated by Bella's crying.

Jasper had to physically restrain Edward.

It was minutes later when the door to Bella's room opened and then slammed shut. The boys only waited another minute before flying out their door and into Bella's room. She was lying face down on her bed, sobbing inconsolably into her pillow. Her pants had been shoved down to her knees and she was rubbing her bared bottom with both hands, the skin there a bright, cherry red.

She'd been afraid of them at first, but then Jasper brought her her pajamas and Edward rubbed her back comfortingly. In between hiccupping gasps she'd sworn over and over to them that she didn't take the necklace. That it was hers. They'd both shushed her, telling her they believed her. When she had cried herself out she told them of the horrible things James had said as he'd spanked her.

He'd pulled her down over his knees, spanking her hard and fast, as she'd cried that she was innocent. James demanded she tell the truth. Finally she confessed to stealing the necklace, if only to make him stop. He'd kept on hitting her to punish her for lying, repeating again how he would not tolerate dishonest little thieves in his house.

Infinitely more painful than his hand smacking her ass were the things he'd said about her mother and father. That her father would be ashamed of her, and her mother was lucky to have rid herself of a lying daughter.

They'd both hugged her, and told her James was an asshole. They'd made her giggle to get her mind off the stinging pain in her backside and the horrible confusion in her mind.

As time passed, the trio grew closer, protecting each other when they could, comforting each other when they couldn't, but always surviving together.

**Still with me? The first real chapter is next.**

**  
**


	2. Runaway Train

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own these beautiful characters, Stephenie Meyer does. I love them. I really, really do.

_**"Can you help me remember how to smile** _   
_**Make it somehow all seem worthwhile** _   
_**How on earth did I get so jaded** _   
_**Life's mystery seems so faded "** _   
_**-Runaway Train, Soul Asylum** _

Before Edward's life had been turned upside down, he had been fairly popular in school. He'd always had a group of friends to run around with on the playground. Shortly after his parents had been hauled off to jail, his best friend, Mike Newton, had made the wrong statement about them. Edward had beaten him bloody, earning a suspension and an expulsion from his first foster home. Little by little, his friends stayed clear of him and his temper.

Bella, too, had had a fair share of friends. She'd been best friends with Angela Weber, Jessica Stanley and Lauren Mallory since kindergarten. When her father had died and she'd been placed in foster care, she'd gone into a deep depression. Jessica and Lauren didn't understand the shift in Bella's demeanor. Angela simply couldn't get through to her. Little by little, they'd left her alone.

Jasper had always been an outcast. He had been the subject of much gossip since the day he entered his 6th grade classroom, when he'd first come to Forks. He was scarred from the accident, making the other kids automatically wary. He was so soft spoken that his teacher often had to tell him to repeat an answer so she could hear it. Everything about their reactions to him reinforced James' words - that he wasn't right. The two years before Edward and Bella had come to live with him had been a lonely time both at home and at school.

Now, the trio was inseparable. They spent every lunch period together. If they had to be the outcasts of Forks High, at least they were not alone.

That day started out like every other day. Edward and Bella walked into the cafeteria first as they had Freshman English together right before lunch. They sat at their usual table in the corner, pulling out the brown bag lunches that Bella had packed for all three of them the night before. Jasper came in from his Spanish II class only a few minutes later, sitting down with them and pulling out his own brown bag.

Jasper and Edward bantered easily for a few minutes. Bella was, as was not unusual for her, deeply involved in some book. She didn't notice at first that Edward and Jasper had gone silent. When the silence got through to her she peered at them over her book, finding them both looking at her with amused grins.

"What?" she asked, blushing automatically.

"You're doing that thing with your lip," Edward informed her. "Reading something, risqué?"

Sometimes, when Bella got nervous or excited, she'd suck her bottom lip into her mouth, biting it softly. Usually, when she was reading a book, it meant that she'd come to a particularly tense chapter, or a particularly sexy one.

Bella released her lip, dropping her eyes to the table. "No," she answered Edward's question quickly. "The main characters are just remembering how he used to pull her pigtails on the playground when they were little."

"What little boys do when they have a crush on little girls. Cliché stuff," Edward said, somewhat confused. He didn't understand why that would excite her, or make her nervous.

She looked up at him with nervous eyes. "You used to pull my ponytail when we were in first grade."

Edward felt his jaw drop a little. He had completely forgotten about that. He ran a hand through his hair, chuckling nervously. He looked to Jasper for some back up, but Jasper wasn't looking at either of them anymore.

He was staring across the cafeteria.

Jasper Whitlock never stared. Among other things, it was impolite. Edward and Bella momentarily forgot their discussion, turning to look at what Jasper was looking at.

It was a girl. A very little girl with spiky black hair.

She was looking around the cafeteria as if she were looking for someone. They all knew who she was. Everyone knew who she was. She was Alice Cullen, senior Emmett Cullen's cousin who had come to live with her aunt and uncle, Emmett's parents Carlisle and Esme.

Edward had first period French with her and had informed them, when she had started school a couple of days earlier, that no one should be that hyper that early in the morning. He had hypothesized that the only way someone could be that peppy at seven thirty in the morning was if she'd had a coffee I.V. hooked straight to her veins. "Her uncle's a doctor. I bet he could get the equipment," he'd said.

Alice was also in Bella's gym class. Bella had sighed wistfully as she'd told them her observations. Alice was as graceful as a dancer; lithe and beautiful. She was everything that Bella wasn't. Bella was clumsy, and more often than not a danger to herself and others in gym.

Yet another reason why Bella's classmates were never surprised to see the bruises that occasionally littered her arms and legs.

Bella shook her head quickly to dispel that thought, watching as Emmett waved Alice over to where he was sitting with a half a dozen other kids, all of them laughing or otherwise involved in conversation. Alice shook her head and continued to look around the cafeteria. Finally, her eyes landed on Jasper.

With a huge smile, she came traipsing up to their table, setting her lunch tray down beside him. Edward and Bella were both taken aback, but Jasper was still staring, his mouth open and his eyes wide.

"Hi. Can I sit with you?" she asked, unnecessarily since she was already sitting down.

"Won't your cousin be upset that you don't sit with him?" Edward asked in a clipped tone. Emmett was staring at them from across the cafeteria, his eyebrows arching comically. Edward shot him a short glare back, figuring he had a problem with his cousin hanging out with the freaks. He turned back to Alice with irritated eyes.

Alice grinned. "Emmett doesn't mind anything," she said cheerfully, ignoring Edward's moodiness. "I felt like sitting with you guys today."

"Why?" Edward couldn't help but ask.

"Edward!" Jasper hissed at him. He was curious too but Edward was being unnecessarily rude.

Alice did not seem insulted. "You're pretty fast at French, Edward. You looked bored this morning when you finished the exercise before everyone else. I was bored too. I figured maybe we could talk sometimes." Before he could respond she looked at Bella. "And I thought maybe you and I could be partners in gym, Bella. If you want. We need a partner for badminton."

Bella's head snapped up from where she had been staring down at the table. She didn't even think that Alice had noticed she was sitting there, let alone that they had the same gym class. "Oh- I couldn't... I mean. I'd just hold you back. I'm really bad at sports."

"Well, everyone needs a partner. It may as well be me, right?" Alice responded easily.

Jasper was completely enraptured by Alice. Her smile and dancing eyes were easily the most beautiful things he'd ever seen. She was enchanting. Confusing, but enchanting. Her voice was smooth and musical, like the gentle tinkling of wind-chimes. While the hyperactive speed at which she spoke was a direct contrast to the typical lazy Southern accent, her accent lilted unmistakably, making Jasper think of his mother - and of his home in Texas.

"Where are you from?" Jasper blurted.

She turned from Bella to look at Jasper and smiled her radiant smile, causing him to suck in a sharp breath. "Biloxi, Mississippi," she answered.

"Why did you move out here from Biloxi?" Jasper couldn't help but ask.

"My step-mother was abusing me," Alice answered plainly. "I told my counselor. My father chose her over me, and he gave up custody of me to my Uncle Carlisle."

Jasper, Edward and Bella all balked at the straightforward way she said this. It was Jasper who recovered first. "I'm sorry," was all he could say.

Alice smiled a tight lipped smile. "It's alright. It was hard - leaving my father, and my little sister especially, and moving, and everything. But Carlisle and Esme are amazing. I have a huge room. Emmett is so much fun. You should really come over sometime. He has, like a thousand video games."

"Maybe," Jasper answered automatically, still a little slack-jawed.

They talked throughout lunch, all somewhat stunned at how easily Alice conversed with them. She never starred at Jasper's scars, never got irritated at Edward's often abrasive attitude, and she was always sure to address Bella directly, seeming to recognize that Bella would withdraw from a conversation if given the opportunity. Jasper watched with growing amazement as she broke through Edward's icy exterior in that short lunch hour, making him smirk at her. Bella got so caught up in listening to her speak that she forgot to stare downward as she typically did when talking to anyone other than Edward and Jasper.

When the bell rang all four of them grimaced, having genuinely enjoyed the hour together. Jasper offered to walk her to her next class, insisting on carrying her books for her.

"So," Alice said after they'd waved goodbye to Edward and Bella. "Are you ever going to tell me your name?"

"I'm sorry," Jasper apologized.

"That's alright," Alice laughed her tinkling little laugh. She stuck her hand out. "I'm Alice Cullen."

He stared at her hand for a fraction of a second before reaching out tentatively and wrapping his larger hand around hers. "Jasper Whitlock," he said softly.

For the first time, in a long time, Jasper felt hope.

It took a week before Jasper was able to work up the courage to ask about going to see the Cullens. He, Edward and Bella were eating dinner. Bella and Edward took turns cooking, Jasper not being able to cook much more than grilled cheese and Top Ramen. That night it was Bella who had cooked.

Usually the three of them were left in peace, James eating the plate that Bella invariably set aside for him whenever he wandered home for the day. That day, though, he came in just as they had sat down. Bella stood without a word and retrieved his plate from the refrigerator, warming it for a minute and setting it in front of James before returning to her seat.

James didn't thank her, but he did mutter something about the meat being too dry.

Jasper cleared his throat. "," he mumbled.

James lifted his head from his food, glaring at his son. "Speak clearly. I swear to god, you spent too much time with your stupid fucking mother and all those hill country idiots who can't enunciate. It's been four years, boy. Speak up, and have the decency to look me in the eye when you're talking to me."

The Houston suburbs were hardly the backwoods of Texas, Jasper wanted to retort. He wanted to drop the whole subject but he knew that James would only be angry at this point if he didn't repeat himself. He looked up at his father, forcing back his nervousness to look him in the eye. He wished he had some way of gauging how James would react, but this was a first. "I said, Alice Cullen invited us over for dinner."

James narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Who's us?"

"Edward, Bella and me," Jasper responded. He was worrying his napkin between his fingers, tearing it into thin strips. "Can we go? Tomorrow?"

James looked over at Edward and Bella. Even Edward was staring down at the table, his food forgotten. James scoffed. "I guess Alice Cullen hasn't been here long enough to know how pathetic you three are." None of them said a word. "Are your chores done?"

They all muttered yeses. All three of them jumped when James suddenly reached out and smacked the napkin from Jasper's hand. "You're making a fucking mess!" he snapped. Jasper immediately dropped his hands under the table, apologizing.

James went back to eating his dinner. "Fine, if Dr. Cullen and Esme want to deal with you, that's their business. It'll be nice to have some peace and quiet in this g'damn house for once."

Jasper's eyes widened, and Bella and Edward's heads snapped up in surprise. Then Bella grinned a genuine grin. She looked like she wanted to hug James. "Thank you," she breathed.

"If I hear any of you caused any trouble, you're going to get it. Do you understand?" he said harshly, stabbing his fork in the air to emphasize his point.

When he got a chorus of "Yes, sirs" back he pushed his plate away and stood up. He strode out of the room, leaving his plate for them to clean up.

Bella got up, very chipper. She gathered all their plates and started to wash them, humming as she went. Edward and Jasper exchanged wary glances. Bella was always so ready to believe the best about people, including James. It had gotten her nothing but heartbreak in the past. Neither of them could stand seeing that stricken look on her face when James went back on his word or did something else to betray the trust Bella put in him. The scars James left on her psyche were so much more painful than any physical attack. Just because James had allowed the visit today didn't mean he'd bother to remember that fact tomorrow.

What could they do but hope? Edward and Jasper got up from the table and set about helping Bella clean up from dinner. They all worked in companionable silence, listening to the soft, sweet sound of Bella's cheerful humming; just enjoying a fleeting moment of happiness where they could get it.

When, by the next morning, James had not rescinded his consent, Jasper and Edward began to share Bella's optimism that this visit could be a good thing. When they told Alice at lunch she squealed with delight. "Excellent!" She was already whipping out her phone to call her aunt.

"Esme? Can Jasper and Edward and Bella come over for dinner tonight? Pleeeeeaaaase?" she asked into the phone excitedly.

The trio exchanged horrified glances. They hadn't known that Alice hadn't asked permission yet. They watched tensely as Alice finished her conversation. "Yes...uh-huh. Right. Thank you, Esme!" She shut the phone, looking over at Jasper with bright eyes. "She'd love to have you!"

"Are you sure?" Jasper asked. "I mean, if your aunt doesn't want us there - it's okay."

Alice furrowed her eyebrows. "Why wouldn't she want you there?"

"We just don't want to be a burden," Bella directed her comment at the tabletop.

"We don't want her to feel uncomfortable," Edward added.

Alice laughed a little. "You guys are acting like you're troublemakers who are going to destroy the house if Esme doesn't watch you carefully. It's not like we're going to have a party. We're just going to chill out. Maybe watch a bad movie or play some video games."

She babbled on happily for the rest of the lunch hour. It was hard not to feel the happiness she exuded. It was hard not to smile and laugh, as if it were normal for them to be going out to a friend's house after school. What might have been mundane, even a typical Wednesday night, for most of their classmates was an unprecedented event for Jasper, Edward and Bella.

After school Alice walked with Bella from gym to Jasper's beat up Sentra. The car had been quite a shock, as James had never given any of them a gift before. James gave him the car on his 16th birthday with the prerequisite that he be Edward and Bella's chauffeur. It relieved James of the only responsibility he had for his two foster children, besides driving Edward up to Seattle to visit his parents at the prison once a month, and the monthly visit with the social worker. He was required to be there for those occasions.

Jasper loved his car. It was the only thing his father had ever given him and it was a small slice of freedom. But he still felt his cheeks go pink with embarrassment when he saw Alice standing by it. He knew the Cullens were fairly rich and while Emmett Cullen drove a jeep, he could probably afford something a lot fancier.

"Won't you be more comfortable driving with Emmett? My car's a little cramped," Jasper asked as he put the key in the door.

"She's very insistent about riding with you," a booming, amused voice said from behind them. Jasper turned to find that Emmett Cullen was striding toward them. He saw Bella jump out of the corner of his eye and press herself ever so slightly against the car. No doubt Emmett's impressive bulk intimidated her, despite the open and friendly smile on his face. "The sooner you get it through your head that Alice gets what Alice wants, the better off you'll be," he advised with a laugh.

Alice hip checked him and Emmett pretended to sway unsteadily.

"Anyway, I'm Emmett Cullen," Emmett said, offering his hand to Jasper.

"Jasper Whitlock," Jasper replied, shaking Emmett's larger hand with a firm grip, unconsciously wanting to impress him. "This here is Bella Swan," he nodded at Bella who peeked up from underneath her hoodie with a tentative smile.

"And I'm Edward Masen," Edward said, coming up beside Bella. He leaned against the car, crossing his arms. Jasper fought the urge to roll his eyes. Emmett was obviously being friendly, but Edward didn't trust anyone.

If Emmett noticed he didn't acknowledge it. He just grinned. Of course, they'd all known who each other were, but being two and three grades ahead of the others, Emmett had never had a reason to associate with them. "You guys had a chance to play the new Twisted Metal yet?"

"Is that a band?" Edward asked, looking skeptical.

"Dude, Twisted Metal is a video game." Emmett clarified with a hint of mystification in his voice. "I'll take that as a no. Come on. Let's get home so we can get some ass kicking started. You'll like it."

He jogged off to his jeep while the rest of them piled into Jasper's car, Alice riding shot gun.

The Cullen mansion was located on the outskirts of town, up a three mile winding road. When the house finally came into view, Jasper couldn't help but gape.

It was a huge house. Much bigger than the four people who lived there could possibly need. He caught Edward and Bella's eyes in the mirror, seeing similar expressions on their faces. They often talked about owning a house this big someday. Some place where they could all live together and yet with enough room to have their own space. "This is some place, Alice," Jasper said, clearing his throat a little.

"Yea," Alice agreed. "I like it here a lot. It's not Biloxi, but it's not bad at all," she grinned.

Emmett's Jeep was no where in sight. He'd gotten ahead of them pretty quickly and was probably already inside the house, Jasper decided.

As they got out of the car, Jasper ran his fingers through his hair nervously. He could see Edward doing the same thing and Bella fiddling with the ties of her hoodie. He nearly jumped out of his skin in surprise when Alice reached up, slipping her tiny hand into the hand that was running through his hair. She brought his hand back down to his side, squeezing firmly and rubbing his knuckles with the pad of her thumb.

"Esme is going to love you. All of you. I promise," she said quietly, trying to ease some of the tension she felt in the air.

Jasper couldn't help but smile down at her. He took a deep breath and nodded. Alice smiled back and let go of his hand, dancing away from him and toward the front door. "Come on!"

Of course, Alice was right. Esme was warm and inviting. She gave each of them a motherly hug, much to their surprise. It threw Edward's tough bravado off, and Jasper could see that he hugged her back.

"Your home is beautiful," Jasper complimented and Esme smiled at him.

"Thank you," she said to Jasper, but her eyes were on Edward. He was staring away from them, obviously not paying attention to their conversation. Esme looked from Edward to where he was staring and Jasper turned his head as well.

In the foyer was a beautiful, black, baby-grand piano. Edward was looking at it with a longing in his eyes that Jasper had never seen before. It was at once wistful and wanting. Edward's thoughts were usually so remote. To see something written so plainly on his face was a shock.

Sensing all of their eyes on him, Edward turned back to them, ruffling his hair, slightly embarrassed. "Is it yours?" he asked Esme, his voice uncharacteristically gentle.

"Oh, no. I couldn't play a note if I tried," Esme said with a small laugh. "It was inherited. Do you play?"

Surprising both Jasper and Bella, Edward nodded slowly. "I haven't played in a long, long time," he whispered, a hint of sadness leaking into his eyes and his tone.

Hearing the sorrow in his voice, Esme squeezed his shoulder comfortingly. "You're welcome to play if you'd like. I don't even know if it's in tune though."

Edward took a breath, shaking his head as he looked back at the piano one more time. "Thank you. Maybe later," he said, and by time he looked over at them again his usual mask was back, the sadness erased or at least hidden away.

"Well, Emmett's in the TV room if you all want to join him. Do you like nachos? I can get some for you," Esme offered as she herded them toward the TV room.

"You don't have to do that," Jasper protested quickly. "We're okay."

"I'm going to make some for Emmett anyway," Esme smiled fondly. "He makes a mess of my refrigerator if I don't feed him every couple of hours."

"Hey! I resemble that remark," Emmett grumbled good naturedly without looking up from his task. He was sitting cross legged in front of the biggest TV Jasper had ever seen outside of a store. He was rooting in one of the drawers of the entertainment center it sat on.

"Can I help you in the kitchen?" Bella asked, so soft that Jasper was amazed Esme heard her.

"If you'd like dear, but it's not necessary."

Bella followed Esme to the kitchen while Emmett and Alice told Edward and Jasper how to play the game.

"You know," Esme began as she pull ingredients out of the refrigerator, "I used to dream of naming my own daughter Bella. Most people know that Bella can be short for Belladonna - beautiful woman. But I liked it because of the Latin translation. Bellatrix - warrior, or battler." Esme smiled as Bella ducked her head shyly.

Esme's nachos were what could only be called epic. Topped with sour cream, olives, jalapenos, salsa and cheese - all three of the boys looked like their eyes would pop out of their heads when they saw them. Emmett reached out and plucked a chip out of the stack before Esme had even set it down. Bella followed behind her, quietly handing each of the boys a Pepsi. She and Alice were drinking Mountain Dew. "Because obviously," Alice had said when Bella had asked her drink preference," Mountain Dew was what the Greeks were referring to when they spoke of ambrosia." Bella wouldn't have gone that far. She liked it more than Pepsi but less than Dr. Pepper.

"Go ahead and dig in boys," Esme said, nodding at Edward and Jasper who were looking at the nachos with hungry eyes but not touching them.

"Thank you ma'am," Edward and Jasper said in accidental unison.

"Jinx!" Alice giggled.

"You can call me Esme, boys," Esme said warmly. She leaned over to ruffle Emmett's hair affectionately and planted a kiss on Alice's forehead. "I'll be out in the garden if you need me."

Jasper felt a quiet pang in his heart as he watched Esme retreat. She was so kind, and warm and - motherly. Watching her quiet affection with Emmett and Alice left him aching. It had been so long since his own mother had laid down a plate of snacks for him. He remembered the feel of his mother's arms around him, holding him to her when he was a child. The memory was so vibrant that Jasper sucked in a sharp breath, swallowing back the wave of sadness that washed over him then. He missed his mother terribly in that moment. He glanced over to find Edward looking at him sympathetically, but thankfully no one else had noticed his distress.

The afternoon went pretty smoothly. Jasper and Edward, both quiet at first, were soon drawn into the game. The rules seemed to be simple – point your car and blow something up while trying to avoid getting blown up. They were naturally competitive boys, and it didn't take them long, with Emmett's goading, to start razzing each other as they played. Bella insisted on watching. She didn't say much, but seemed to be enjoying their banter. She was smiling and would giggle occasionally at something they said.

For a while, they felt almost normal.

"Emmett," Esme called as she came in from outside, a couple of hours later. "You left your basketball out again."

"Sorry, mom!" Emmett called back without getting up from the couch. "I'll get it in a sec!"

Jasper, Edward and Bella all turned to stare at him.

"What?" he asked, perplexed.

"Nothing," Edward mumbled, and they all turned back to the game.

Jasper listened to Alice and Emmett's good natured bickering as they pounded on the controls, giggling. He could see Edward getting into it, occasionally swearing when Emmett came out of no where and rammed into his car. But now, Bella was a complete contrast to their relaxed attitude. She was nervous; he could tell by the way she chewed on the stubs of her fingernails. Even though she was looking at the TV screen, Jasper could tell she wasn't really seeing it. Every few seconds her eyes would flit over to door. He could tell Edward was watching her surreptitiously as well. Every once in a while his eyes would crinkle with worry.

Finally, Bella couldn't stand it. She stood silently and walked out the door. Edward and Jasper's eyes both followed her. Luckily, Emmett and Alice were too wrapped up in battle to notice her departure. She walked outside without a word and Jasper knew she was picking up Emmett's abandoned basketball. She did that all the time at home: picking up anything that Edward and Jasper carelessly left behind. They didn't do it often, knowing what could happen, but Bella was hyper-conscious of anything left out.

Books were Bella's escape and her passion, just like music was Jasper and Edward's. She was a voracious reader, often reading several books in the course of a month. Her most valued possessions were the handful of books she's been able to take with her, all of them gifts from her father. She had shared that her room at her father's house had several bookshelves; all full. She had made the mistake, only once, of leaving one of her books out on the living room floor.

James had ripped the book to shreds in front of her eyes. He'd called her a pig for leaving her messes all over the house.

Bella came back and retook her seat without a word. That done, she seemed infinitely calmer, and was able to enjoy the game more, but Jasper knew her expressions well enough. The humor and happiness in her eyes had been dimmed, just a little bit.

Somewhere deep inside of Jasper, a little flame sparked. He felt his throat tighten with an unfamiliar anger. He couldn't remember the last time Bella had giggled with anyone but Edward and him. He couldn't remember the last time Edward had gotten along with anyone besides Bella and him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so normal. Then, something so minor had come along to remind him, remind all of them, that they were not normal.

 _It's not fair._  The words filled his mind.

He tried to let it go, enjoying the video game.

Dr. Cullen came home and Jasper watched the lighthearted banter between him and Emmett. He saw Bella's eyes cast downward again when he hugged Alice.  _It's not fair._ Again, Jasper had to swallow back the lump that had raised to his throat, trying to fight the anger and jealousy that was rising in him without his consent.

Right before they were supposed to leave, Bella let Alice drag her to her room to borrow some article of clothing. They got on the road 15 minutes later than they should have. They were all in high spirits, having enjoyed their time at the Cullens immensely.

They entered the house and instantly the conversation died on their lips.

James was in the living room, facing them, with his arms crossed and his eyes narrowed. On the end table beside him there was a tumbler, empty except for ice and just a sip of the whiskey he enjoyed. James was a volatile drunk. It was always a surprise what would irritate him. Tonight, though, that seemed to be a moot point. He was already irritated when they walked in the door. "You're late," he said, his voice a dangerous monotone.

Bella gulped, watching him with wide eyes as he came toward the trio. She opened her mouth to apologize, but Edward got there first. "It's not their fault," he said, stepping in front of both Jasper and Bella.

"Do you think I set rules for you to break them, you little shit?" James shoved Edward hard as he spoke and Edward stumbled backward. "Answer me!"

"No, sir," Edward said through clenched teeth. "Time just got away from me, that's all."

James shoved him again. "You're a liar. I swear to god you do this shit on purpose just to piss me off," he growled, raising his fist.

 _It's not fair,_ Jasper thought as he held Bella to him, shielding her face against his chest so she wouldn't have to see. It was bad enough she had to hear what James was saying to Edward. He backed Edward into a corner. Edward pressed himself against the wall, his shoulders hunched and his hands and arms thrown up to protect his head as James struck him repeatedly.

"Worthless little shit," James yelled, finally dropping his hands. "All of you get out of my sight."

Upstairs, in the boy's room, Edward sat on his bed, rolling up his sleeves to inspect the damage. Bella sat beside him looking pensive, all the happiness from their evening erased. Jasper went to the desk in the room, pretending to stare at his homework, but really seeing nothing. He could feel the anger churning in him, like a pot of water beginning to boil. He breathed deeply, trying to keep it under control.

With a slight groan, Edward lay on the bed, closing his eyes as the throbbing pain in his arm and across his shoulders started to ebb.

"You shouldn't have done that," Bella started.

"It's not bad, Bella. Don't worry about it," Edward said dismissively.

"It was my fault we were late. You should have let me take responsibility for it," Bella argued. "I don't like it when you let him hurt you because of something I've done."

Edward sighed and opened his eyes to look at her. "You know he's different with you, and you know he overreacts when he's drunk. He would have taken the belt to you." Edward shook his head. "It's better this way."

"I hate that you feel you have to protect me. Why can't you let me protect you for once? It's not fair-,"

With a suddenness that made both Edward and Bella jump to their feet, Jasper swept all of his books off the desk. He stood so fast his chair fell over. His face was a mask of fury. He looked so much like James right then that Edward automatically stepped in front of Bella protectively.

"It's not fair!" Jasper shouted the words that had been in his head since earlier that evening. "Do you realize how sick this is? You're sitting here, arguing over which one of you gets to take the beating for all of us. For what? We were 15 minutes late. It shouldn't be an issue."

"Be quiet," Edward hissed, but Jasper was incensed.

"I  _am_ quiet." Jasper said venomously. "I'm quiet all the time. I get good grades. I don't make trouble. And it's still not enough." Jasper was pacing now, one hand buried in his hair, tugging at it as he paced. He laughed a hard, bitter laugh. "Some kids our age are drinking, doing drugs, getting knocked up! They sneak out, they stay up late, they disrespect their parents and they don't get what we get!"

"Son of a bitch!" Jasper yelled. The anger was almost like a physical entity, tearing him apart from the inside with the strength of it. Black hatred filled him, tasting like bile in the back of his throat; poisoning his blood stream as it flowed through him with every beat of his heart. Desperation crept over him. He wanted to not feel so horribly wrong. He wanted the poison out of him. He felt like he would claw at his own skin if only it would get this ugliness out of him. "I'm so tired of being afraid!" With a wild sound that was almost not human, Jasper started to punch the desk.

"Jasper!" Bella cried, darting out from behind Edward. She tried to put an arm around Jasper to get him to stop, but Jasper was beyond any kind of reason. When he felt her touch he automatically threw his arm back protectively. He hit her across the chest, sending her tumbling to the ground.

Edward just snapped. He had seen James throw Bella to the floor too many times and had been unable to stop it. Watching Jasper - his best friend, his brother - do the same thing, especially now when he looked so much like James, Edward didn't hold back. "You son of a bitch," he screamed as he threw himself at Jasper, knocking them both to the floor. "Don't you fucking touch her!"

Picking herself up, Bella ran to where the boys were wrestling on the ground, fists flying and legs kicking. "Stop it! Stop it!" she yelled, tugging at Edward's shirt as he got the upper hand.

The door to the room suddenly flew open, crashing against the opposite wall. Edward scrambled off of Jasper and Jasper sat up quickly, skittering backward. All the anger had left Jasper the second he had figured out what he was doing - that he had pushed Bella and was fighting with Edward. Unfortunately, he had come to his senses only a split second before the door had been flung open.

Now James stood in the door way, his face livid. "What the fuck is going on here?"

None of them answered. They didn't have any answer to give. Besides that, it was unlikely that James would listen on a normal day. Tonight he was obviously drunk. Anything they said would only serve to make him angrier at this point.

Since she was nearest to him, James stalked forward, grabbing Bella by the arm and wrenching her away from where she was cowering against the wall. Holding her by the wrist with his left hand, he started to hit her with his right, his open palm falling randomly on her body as she tried to pull away from him. "You stupid fucks. I can't get a little peace and quiet in my own house without you g'damn brats acting up."

"Stop!" Jasper cried, horrified at what he'd brought down on them. "It was my fault. I was the one making all the noise. Bella and Edward didn't do anything."

James glared at his son, still holding Bella's wrist. "Don't fucking lie to me. I saw you and your little fairy boyfriend rolling around on the floor." He looked back at Bella, shaking her as he spoke. "And what - you just get off on watching them? Get the fuck out of here. Go to your room and stay there," he yelled, shoving her toward the door.

Jasper threw Bella a wide-eyed, apologetic look, hoping she saw it as her eyes darted from him to Edward. Then she turned on her heel and ran for her room, not daring to make James more upset than he already was. James was towering over both him and Edward, who was also still on the floor. Guilt was gnawing at him so bad that Jasper was almost glad when James started to hit him. He was only sorry that Edward had to share his punishment.

It wasn't as bad as it could have been, and far from the worst beating either of them had ever received. James left with a warning that if he heard another peep from them he'd make them very sorry.

Neither of them moved, listening carefully to make sure James' footsteps retreated toward his own room and not Bella's. They both sighed in relief when they heard the door to the master bedroom slam shut.

Sitting up with his back against the wall, Jasper buried his head in his hands, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. The rage had subsided almost completely, but the ugliness, the poison in his veins remained. It had settled like a weight on his chest that was almost suffocating. It was nights like tonight that he was glad of the scars that covered his body. They marked his skin and made him as hideous on the outside as he felt on the inside. Guilt shook him with an intensity that made him gasp. Edward and Bella didn't deserve this. It was his cross to bear. James was his father and Jasper alone should have taken the punishment tonight.

He didn't realize he was crying until he felt Edward's hand on his shoulder. "Jazz?" Edward's voice was soft, hardly more than a whisper.

"I'm sorry," Jasper whispered back, his shoulders shaking with the quiet sobs that broke over him then. "I'm so sorry, Edward. I didn't mean to push Bella like that. I didn't mean to get so upset. I was just so angry," he babbled.

"It's okay. I know you didn't mean it. I'm sorry I hit you," Edward replied, sliding down against the wall beside Jasper.

"I deserved it. I shouldn't have gotten like that. It shouldn't have happened," Jasper said, trying stop the tears with little success.

"A lot of things shouldn't have happened," Edward said wryly. "Your mom shouldn't have died. Bella's dad shouldn't have died. My parents shouldn't have tried to steal all that money from their employers so they could be taking care of me instead of rotting in prison." The bitterness in Edward's tone was palpable. "None of this should be happening. But it is. You and Bella are all I have, Jasper. We can't be fighting with each other. You don't deserve that."

Jasper didn't argue the point.

For several minutes they sat quietly, Edward's hand on Jasper's shoulder offering what little comfort he could. "One day at a time and we'll be out of here before you know it," Edward said with a hint of sardonic humor in his voice. Two years, three for Edward and Bella, seemed like a horrendously long time to both of them. "Then it's nothing but blue skies," Edward borrowed one of his father's sayings.

Jasper let out a shaky laugh. They had come up with this little dream over a year ago. Jasper completed the thought automatically, letting his mind take a tenuous hold of the dream to drag himself out of reality, of only for a few moments; if only long enough so he could breathe again. "We'll build a huge house down in California, or even Texas. Some place with room for all of us."

"You and Alice?" Edward said slyly, letting Jasper know he had seen the looks he was giving Alice.

"You and Bella?" Jasper retorted, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips now. Edward pretended to scowl at Jasper but there was a far away look in his eyes.

Edward stood, helping Jasper to his feet. They both got ready for bed, and as they turned off the lights, both of them were wrapped up in their fantasy future, letting it surround them and comfort them like a warm blanket. It was a beautiful dream.

Neither one of them were sure they really believed it could come true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to take this time to give love to two people who held my hand through this process. Cella and Melly, two incredibly talented and creative girls, are two of the best people a girl can have around. Love you guys, and thank you so much for your words of encouragement.
> 
> Also thanks to Bella's Understudy who gave me a second opinion on this piece, even though it was hard for her to read.
> 
> Let me hear from you.


	3. Jesus Christ

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Just to clarify – this story is not just a Jasper story. This first portion has been mostly Jasper's story. The next portion will be mostly Edward's and then Bella's.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own these beautiful characters, Stephenie Meyer does. I love them. I really, really do.

_**"Jesus Christ, that's a pretty face  
The kind you'd find on someone that could save  
If they don't put me away  
It'll be a miracle  
Do you believe you're missing out?  
That everything good is happening somewhere else**_"  
-Jesus Christ, Brand New

It was likely that James would have kept Jasper, Edward and Bella from visiting the Cullens again except that Dr. Cullen spoke highly of them. He had commended James on what an excellent job he was doing parenting once troubled teens. "Lying assholes," James had sneered. "Esme is just too stupid to see you the way I see you. You can fool the world into thinking you're good kids, but I know better."

Despite his words, they could tell he was pleased by their "performance". There were no violent incidents for several weeks, save for a few times when Edward's sarcasm earned him a not so gentle whack across the back of the head. A certain amount of the money James received for Edward and Bella had to be used toward keeping them clothed. When James took them to the store, he'd bought one of the movies he heard Jasper and Bella talking about. He'd let them watch it in peace, and had even brought home pizza for dinner.

The three teenagers were shocked. Edward and Jasper were more than a little wary. But they did their best to keep James in his good mood. They were diligent with their chores, careful with their tongues and didn't press their luck, limiting visits to the Cullens to once a week or so.

Every weekday, at lunch, they would sit with Alice. More often than not Jasper and Alice would get involved with some discussion and they would forget Edward and Bella were even there. Watching them one day, Edward took to mimicking the grins they were giving each other and quietly poking fun at their accents to Bella.

"Why Rhett Butler, I do declare," Edward whispered in a falsetto and an intentionally horrible, Southern accent. Bella covered her mouth to smoother a giggle. He held one of his notebooks in one hand, fanning himself and fluttering his eyelashes. "You are the biggest bastard in the entire South."

He furrowed his eyebrows and put on a cocky grin. Bella sucked her bottom lip in between her teeth. "Miss Scarlett, don't play games with me. You know both of us want me to be under your petticoats."

By then he had Jasper and Alice's attention. They were both giving him sour looks, but they were mostly for show. Alice was biting back a grin. "You're an ignorant fucker sometimes you know that?" Jasper said, but he was grinning. "First of all, the Texas twang is very different from the Mississippian drawl, and that is very different from the deep South of Georgia."

"Wasn't Vivian Leigh British?" Bella asked.

The boys snickered and Alice stuck out her tongue at Edward. "You're just jealous, Edward. You know all the girls think that Jasper's accent is sexy."

"They do?" Jasper asked, really only curious about one girl.

Alice smiled at him and nodded. She rolled her eyes a little. "Lauren Mallory," she said the name with a hint of a sneer, "Talks about it all the time in the locker room."

After school that day they went over to the Cullen's again. Esme set out a plate of pizza rolls that they immediately set about devouring.

Watching all of them fondly, Esme cleared her throat, catching Edward's attention. "Edward, I had the piano tuned today and I was wondering if you could tell me if they did it right."

Edward shifted in his seat, running a hand through his hair absently. For the second time, Jasper witnessed Edward's cocky public demeanor come down in front of him. He could see the longing in the other boy's eyes again.

"You wouldn't want Esme to be ripped off, right Edward?" Jasper urged him.

"I'd like to hear your play," Bella said quietly. He looked over at her and she smiled back at him encouragingly.

"Okay," he agreed quickly, popping one last pizza roll in his mouth. "I don't know if I can play anymore. It's been years."

They all moved to the living room adjacent to where the piano sat on in the foyer. Edward sat down and ran his hand through his hair again before putting his fingers tentatively on the keys, as if he were touching a scared kitten that might bolt out of reach at the slightest movement. He drummed his fingers, playing a simple scale to test the sound of the piano. Hearing the notes, Edward smiled. It was a wide that betrayed contentment that Jasper had never seen on his brother's face before. He looked at home. Edward started to play then; a piece that was vaguely familiar amidst a flurry of flourishes and descants. His fingers moved over the keys with a sinuous grace, almost as if they were dancing to the song he played.

Jasper felt his mouth drop. He had known, of course, that Edward was passionate about music. It was a passion they shared. Jasper had always been more of a lyrics man. When lyrics spoke to him, he could disappear into a song, the words painting a picture of what the artist was feeling as he or she sang. For Edward it was the music; the guitars and drums and tune working together to communicate an additional depth of emotion that the words alone might otherwise miss. For the first time, Jasper understood what he meant when he said the music could speak as loudly as any poetic words. He felt a pang of irrational jealousy that Edward, despite the ugliness he knew in his life, could still create something so beautiful.

The tune drew to a close and Edward's fingers lingered on the keys, a peaceful look on his face. He didn't even seem to be aware that the five of them were gaping at him.

"Jesus, kid," Emmett choked, breaking the silence. "You didn't tell us you were some sort of prodigy."

Edward turned toward them, looking sheepish but there was a glint in his eye. He seemed a little more alive than he had just a few minutes before.

"Why didn't you tell us you could play like that?" Jasper asked incredulously.

"Honestly?" Edward said, a little wistful, "I thought I had forgotten."

It was a couple of weeks later that whatever bubble of happiness and quasi-normality they were living in burst.

They were at the Cullen's again, though the atmosphere was much tenser than it had been before. Bella was walking around in a bit of a haze; skittish and distracted. Both of the boys were watching her in their peripheral vision. They saw every time she flinched - when Emmett got too close, or made too loud a noise. She had skipped lunch, probably hiding out in the library and she had nibbled only one chip off the chips and dips that Esme had set out for them. Alice had to call her name several times to catch her attention.

Jasper sighed to himself as they followed Emmett to the TV room after snacking in the kitchen. He was second guessing his decision to encourage Bella to come with them today. She had tried to back out, but had been insistent that Edward and Jasper go to the Cullen's as planned. She said she would ride the bus home. She didn't want to be the reason they missed out on a chance for fun. At the time, Jasper and Edward had both thought that a trip to the Cullen's would do her good. It would be good for her to be distracted by Alice's friendly, chatty nature, Emmett's jokes and Esme's easy affection.

Instead, Esme observed her despondency without knowing the true reason. She looked on her with pity and compassion, not affection. Just another troubled kid. Instead of making her giggle as he usually did, Emmett's boisterous nature interrupted her thoughts and startled her. Instead of drawing her out of the shell she had retreated into, Alice's chattiness only cast a light on Bella's abstraction. The three Cullens were quieter than usual, picking up on the uneasy atmosphere that surrounded Jasper, Edward and Bella.

Fighting to keep a scowl off his face, Jasper settled into his now familiar position on the couch. Hate was beginning to rise again; a cold, cloying feeling filling his body and polluting his soul with blackness. Often it was these glimpses of kindness from James that were the most painful to deal with. It was always harder when the spell broke. It always hurt more than if he was never nice at all. Now, the affect of James' actions had reached out and polluted the air in the Cullen's home. Jasper hated bringing even a hint of the ugliness in his life into this house.

Bella sat gingerly in one of the typically comfortable chairs in the TV room as Edward and Emmett decided which game they felt like playing. Alice had excused herself to help Esme with a project before they'd left the kitchen. It wasn't lost on Jasper that Edward kept throwing worried glances in Bella's direction. Normally, Bella would have been irritated at such attention but today she wasn't really looking at anyone.

The conversation was stilted as the boys played. Eventually, Bella murmured a "be right back," presumably heading off in the direction of the restroom. Jasper and Edward's eyes followed her as she left. They turned back as Emmett cleared his throat.

"Is Bella okay today?" Emmett asked quietly, his face and tone uncharacteristically serious.

"What do you mean?" Edward asked defensively.

"I mean," Emmett paused as if trying to find the right words. He was not known for his tact. "She's ... restless. She's usually still and quiet as a statue, but today she's been...jumpy, and kind of out of it."

"She's just worried about her Algebra test," Edward lied easily. "She's probably feeling like she should get home and study."

Jasper glanced at Emmett out of the corner of his eye, trying to gauge if the older boy believed Edward. He really couldn't tell, but either way, Emmett dropped the subject.

The truth of the matter was that Bella was far from okay. The day previous, James' kind streak had come to brutal and chaotic end. Of course, it had to be Bella that it had come down on. Bella who had started to allow herself to hope that James was capable of change. Bella who still thought it was possible that James could become the person he pretended to be with everyone else - charming, kind and caring. Every, single time Bella's hope was thrown back in her face, Edward and Jasper had to watch as her spirit was crushed just that much more.

It had been bad. Very bad.

Bella had been cleaning the kitchen and noticed that the sink was stopped up. She knew that she had last seen the Draino under the sink in the downstairs bathroom, so she had gone to retrieve it. James had always kept a drawer in that bathroom locked - a prerequisite from the foster family agency when there were dangerous medical items that foster children could get into. That day, however, it was unlocked, and partially open.

The contents of the drawer had caught Bella's eye and sparked her curiosity. It was packed to the brim with row after row of prescription bottles, each of them filled with pills of various shapes, colors and sizes of pills. She picked one up, not comprehending, at first, what she was seeing. There were no names on any of the bottles.

She had started to put the facts together then. James had people over occasionally; people that didn't seem like his friends. Invariably, James would go into the bathroom before he and his guest would go to his office. They would come out of his office a short time later. They all had their suspicions about the small parade of people - Jasper and Edward's tending toward the more lewd extra curricular professions James could be engaging in - but this had not been something they guessed.

She had started to wonder if James was using his connection to the hospital to get extra prescription pills.

A movement out of the corner of her eye had stopped Bella's thought process cold. She'd looked up to find herself caught in James' malevolent stare, his narrowed eyes reflected in the bathroom mirror in front of her. Whirling to face him, she'd dropped the little bottle of pills and started to try to explain, but James wasn't hearing any of it.

He had grabbed her by her hair and started shaking her, questioning how she'd gotten into the drawer. It was a warped sort of mercy that the ripping sound of her hair being torn from her scalp blocked out some of the vile things James was screaming at her. As the intense pain and dizziness hit her like a brick, her knees had buckled, her hands going up automatically to where his were gripping her hair. Without really knowing what she was doing, she'd dug her nails into his hands, desperately trying to get him to let go.

Of course, that made things infinitely worse.

James had always treated Bella differently from the boys. The boys he'd beaten with his hands, his fists and his feet. He said he was teaching Jasper how to be a man. He said he was knocking the cocky swagger right out of Edward. He only occasionally hit Bella like that, and then mostly when he was drunk. He had always disciplined her more traditionally. Bella often thought she was treated too lightly in comparison with Edward and Jasper, but they thought the way she was treated was worse. It was true that the boys often suffered worse physical effects of their beatings – loss of mobility to their arms or legs due to bruising, sprained limbs, occasionally, a broken finger- but Bella's punishments had a sense of normality to them that messed with her mind. They had all known other kids who were spanked, belted, or even paddled. As a result, after James punished her, Bella was prone to believing she brought her punishments on herself; that she deserved what she got.

There was nothing normal about the severity of James' brand of discipline normally but that day was, far and away, the worst whipping Bella had ever received. That day, James had not even bothered to take her to her room to punish her, as he typically did. When he felt her nails dig into his hands his anger had flared out of control. He had only dragged her as far as the living room, forcing her over the arm of the couch and yanking the sweatpants she wore down to her ankles.

If Jasper and Edward could answer Emmett's question honestly, he would have told him that Bella was "restless" because the welts from James' belt that covered her ass and the backs of her upper legs made it impossible to sit comfortably. They would have told him that she was "jumpy" because her trust had been shattered yet again. She wasn't entirely sure what had triggered James' reaction and so her defenses were raised...and Emmett was so much bigger than she was. She was "out of it" because, among other things, her head still ached and stung almost as badly as her body. Her long, thick hair masked the bald spots on either side of her head, but she felt the throbbing pain with almost every movement. The constant, sharp ache made it impossible for her to put it out of her mind even for a few minutes so she was lost in her thoughts; reliving the event and trying to figure out how she could have undone the past.

Jasper glanced over at Edward, seeing that the younger boy was glaring at the TV with his teeth clenched. Obviously he, like Jasper, was thinking back to last night.

As soon as they'd heard James' yelling, they'd both come running down the stairs. The mental images were burned into Jasper's brain. James, his face twisted in fury as he laid into Bella without mercy. Bella's little body rising off the couch with each hitched breath she took, struggling to keep her composure until she couldn't any longer. Edward with his hands fisted in his hair, his body shaking with rage he had no choice but to contain - he couldn't make it worse when James was already terrifyingly angry. Jasper's own voice as he pleaded desperately. "Dad, stop! She's had enough! That's enough!" Minutes had ticked by like hours, and both of the boys were crying silent, furious tears

By the time James had stopped, he had driven Bella to the edge of hysteria. It was doubtful that she even heard James' warning to all of them to stay out of the bathroom from then on. Jasper shuddered slightly, remembering how he and Edward had tried to comfort Bella afterward. She was in bad shape - completely oblivious to their presence at first, she'd sunk to her knees beside the couch. She didn't seem to register their attempts to console her until Jasper had run his hands through her hair. She cried out sharply and flinched away from him. When he'd pulled his hand back it had been covered in strands of her long, chestnut hair. He had noticed then that there were loose hairs fluttering to the floor and sticking to the couch. The boys had been terrified at first that she would hyperventilate. Her chest rose and fell in too-quick, staccato heaves, struggling to fill her lungs with oxygen between sobs and hiccups. It was over 20 minutes before she calmed, and she collapsed against Edward's chest limply, completely exhausted from her ordeal.

The first thing out of her mouth when she had been able to speak again was an apology. Even though she wasn't quite sure what she'd done wrong, she was sure it was her that had brought the angry, volatile James back. Jasper had felt as if his heart would break, listening to her repeat that she was sorry, and she was idiot for snooping and she should have known better. After hearing her version of events, Jasper and Edward came to the same conclusion that Bella had started to come to. James was pushing pills.

At the very least, it explained why he had been so furious, catching Bella in his stash.

Jasper's thoughts were interrupted by Emmett who started telling the filthiest jokes he knew, apropos of nothing. The boys joked back with him, but their hearts weren't in it. By the time Bella and Alice had wandered back into the room, the only noise came from the clicking of the controllers.

Rather than try to make it through an awkward dinner, the trio made their excuses and went home even before Carlisle got back from the hospital.

Thankfully, James hadn't come home yet when they got back.

When they got in the door Edward grabbed Bella's hand, tugging her gently into the living room instead of heading upstairs to one of their rooms. Curious as to what he was doing, Jasper followed them.

"Sit?" Edward asked. Bella furrowed her eyebrows but sat on the living room chair. Giving her a somewhat devious look, he pulled a baggy out of his hoodie pocket. Jasper could vaguely see something green inside of it.

"No way man, what are you -" Jasper started to protest.

"Would you relax?" Edward interrupted, rolling his eyes. He finished unwinding the baggy and pulled a light green, thick looking leaf of some sort out of it. "It's an aloe plant, nitwit," he said with a smirk and a shake of his head.

"Where did you get that?" Bella asked, perplexed.

Edward grimaced, knowing Bella wasn't going to like the answer. "Esme has a plant in the back room," he admitted. He started to peel off the first layer of the plant, exposing the gooey looking center.

"Edward!" Bella protested.

"Come on, Bella," Edward soothed. "It's just one leaf. She won't even notice, and it will help."

"Help what?" Bella asked, still looking uncertain about even such a minor theft.

Instead of answering, Edward reached out and carefully started to brush Bella's hair back. He found the bald spot easily enough when she flinched at his touch. It was still an angry red color, dotted with tiny specs of blood. Holding her hair out of the way, Edward brought the plant up to the spot and started gently dabbing the ooze on it. "Feel better?" he asked as he worked.

Bella's eyes fluttered and she sighed. "It feels good. Cold."

Edward's lips quirked up in a half smile. "My mom always kept an aloe plant around the house. She used it on any cuts I had, and once when I burned my hand on the stove. See?" He pointed out a small scar on the palm of his hand. Then he moved to the other side of her head, beginning the process over again for the second spot. "She said it helped heal things quicker. I just know it feels good." He paused so he could look her in the eye. "Plus I really liked to squish the slimy stuff between my fingers." He demonstrated. "Ninja Turtles, right?"

This earned him the first genuine smile either of them had seen on her since before yesterday. It wasn't a big smile, but it was better than her vacant stares, and worlds better than apprehension. "Thanks. But ask next time. Just tell Esme you want to pretend you're running around in sewers, fighting evil."

Watching them banter, Jasper felt some of the weight on his heart ease just slightly. Seeing Bella smile again, even a little, and hearing her teasing Edward, Jasper knew that she wasn't broken, that she would mend - again.

They lived everyday with the fear that James might someday break one of them forever. Jasper had felt close to breaking in the past, especially before Edward and Bella had saved him. He knew what it was like to feel too many horrible things all at once - each emotion threatening to consume. He knew a mind could burn like fire raging out of control, turning everything in its path to skeletal black - completely devoid of life. He knew what sanity felt like - each tie pulled taut like the strings of a guitar, twisted harder out of tune until, one by one, the strings snapped. Bruises would fade, and broken bones would knit back together, but Jasper knew that a broken mind was a death sentence. Everything else they could survive, they would survive.

More and more, Jasper was starting to wonder what he could do besides wait for James to break one of them, heart, body, mind and soul. More and more, he was starting to wonder if there was a way out. Not in three years, but now, before his father could hurt any of them, ever again. More and more, he wondered if there could be more to his life than simply surviving.

The Alice issue continued to get more complicated.

Of course, Jasper was like any other teenage boy in most regards. He thought about sex the requisite once every 6 seconds or so. The difference was that since she had first installed herself at their lunch table, every fantasy turned into Alice. He wanted to touch her. He wanted to taste her. All the things that normal boys his age were doing with girls, he wanted to do with Alice. Everything from being able to hold her hand, to kissing her lips, to feeling her body flush against his.

But it was also more than just the fantasies. Once, when they had all been watching a movie in the Cullen's living room, Alice had fallen asleep against his shoulder. He'd found himself watching her instead of the movie. The feel of her pressed against him, her breath warm on his arm, gave him a feeling of contentment he had never imagined possible. She made him happy; happier than he could remember being, even in his childhood with his mother.

With these feelings, so new to him, came an added sense of guilt and even paranoia unlike the usual worry he experienced.

He was guilty for every time the poison in his life touched Alice: When Edward snapped at Alice one day after a particularly rough night; when she tried without success to draw Bella into a conversation the first several days after James had hurt her so badly; when she asked questions that Jasper had to avoid answering.

It was scary to be so close to someone outside of their home. She was close enough to be able to tell when there was something wrong. It was a double edged sword. On the one hand - that she would find out what was going on under James' roof, and the repercussions of what she might do with that information. On the other hand, he was equally afraid she would find out and think less of him. He was afraid that something about his situation would send her running and he would lose her.

Despite the added complication she brought to his life, Jasper was desperately afraid of losing Alice. There was part of him that whispered that his father was right - that he was not a man, and therefore not good enough for Alice. There was a part of him that whispered that it was too dangerous to let Alice into his life.

All of the confusion left Jasper unsure of how to go forward with Alice. He knew he wanted so much, but he had no idea if he could or should take. He had no one to turn to for advice. Edward was nervous enough about their friendship with the Cullen kids. He knew how Jasper looked on Alice, and he had not said anything against it, but Jasper also knew that Edward would not be completely for it either. Edward, for reasons unknown to Jasper, had carried his own torch for Bella in relative silence for years - even before she lived in the same household.

By default, Jasper's plan became to let Alice take the lead. When she wanted to hold his hand, he let her. When she wanted to lean against him, he wrapped an arm around her in welcome. He returned touches and playful shoving in kind.

That was how he found himself outside with her on the Cullen's porch one afternoon. Dr. Cullen had been home early, for once, and Esme had encouraged Edward to play for him. Edward, as he always did now when Esme asked, obliged. As the rest of them had settled in to listen, Alice had taken Jasper's hand and led him outside to the porch swing.

Jasper loved the Cullen's backyard. It was peaceful; the wind blowing through the trees and the sound of the river flowing nearby. It was such a stark contrast to the chaos of his life that Jasper reveled in it. They sat in companionable silence, just listening to the strains of beautiful music coming from the piano in the house.

Jasper looked over at Alice, watching her as she looked out over the forest. He felt that peculiar pull toward her, like he wanted to wrap his arms around her and never let her go. She was so beautiful, he sometimes felt like he couldn't breathe when he looked at her. He reached out and tugged lightly on one of her wild strands of hair to get her attention. "What are you thinking about?" he asked, needing to hear her soft, lilting voice.

"I was thinking that this feels more like home than I would have expected. Even thought I miss my sister and my dad, I love my family here." She looked over at him, smiling an uncharacteristically shy smile. "And you three are amazing friends."

They sat in silence while Jasper tried to decide whether or not to ask the next question on his mind. He sensed, instinctively, that his question was going to be hard - hard for Alice to talk about and hard for him to listen to. But he found that, when it came to Alice, he wanted everything. He wanted to know her dreams and he wanted to know her nightmares. He wanted to know her good moods and her bad moods. He wanted to know what made her laugh and what made her cry. He didn't know what it meant. He simply wanted.

"Alice, please tell me to fuck off if I'm being rude," he said slowly, "But will you tell me what happened...with your step-mother and your father?"

Alice's breath caught in her throat and Jasper opened his mouth to apologize but she held her tiny hand up. "It's okay. Just...give me a minute." She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. "I just...haven't told anyone besides my uncle and aunt."

After a moment of silence, Alice began to speak. She did not look at him, staring straight ahead, out at the river. "I lived mostly with my momma, when I was little. She and my daddy were never married, but he was always in my life. He was a good daddy, not like a lot of kids you hear about. If he said he was taking me for the weekend, he showed up on time. All of that."

Her voice became smaller, and slightly higher pitched. She drew her legs up to her chest, her size and voice making her seem like a little girl. "But momma was sick. She just...she wasn't right in the head. She isn't, I guess. One day my daddy came and got me out of school. He told me that mom was going someplace to get better. She had some sort of breakdown, and she was hospitalized. I was 8."

Acting instinctively, Jasper reached out to squeeze her hand. She caught his fingers and held his hand tightly. "Momma recovered but not enough to raise a kid, so I saw her when I could from then on. It was okay, at first. My stepmother was nice enough. Then, when I was 12 she had a baby, and everything changed."

Alice's head dropped and Jasper could see she was struggling. "Alice," he said, moving closer to her and wrapping an arm around her shoulders, "If this is too hard..."

"I want to tell you," Alice assured him. She took a steadying breath. "She started accusing me of doing things to the baby - my little sister Cynthia. If I was around Cynthia at all she would just find something to freak out about. It started out as pinches ... but before long she would hit me when she went into one of these fits. My daddy worked a lot. My stepmother told him all these stories about me, so he never stopped her when she hit me."

A single tear had gathered in the corner of Alice's eye and she swiped at it furiously. "Then, last year, about four months or so before I came to live here, I was watching Cynthia. She's three now, you know. Clumsy baby." She smiled fondly before she continued. "We were outside and she just...tripped and she fell down the steps. There were three steps on the porch and she fell down them. I was...so scared. She was bleeding and crying."

Jasper's heart twisted, imagining Alice, frantic over her little sister. "Then what?" he murmured, encouraging her to continue.

Another tear slid down her cheek and this time Alice didn't stop it. "My stepmother figured out she was just scraped up, but she was so angry. She pushed me down to the ground, and then she started hitting me. I mean,  _really_ hitting me.

"The next day one of my classmates saw one of the bruises on my arm. She told a counselor. The counselor called me in...and I told her everything. My dad and stepmother had to go into the child protective services office. They didn't get in trouble or anything - you know, my step-mom had an emotional response," she rolled her eyes, her tone bitter. "And then they started to go to counseling with me. I thought... I thought that things would get better. For a little while they were better." Alice stopped again to wipe at the tears. She looked over at him for the first time, her eyes pleading. There was an emotion in them that Jasper was well acquainted with, and he was surprised at how angry he was at whoever had put that emotion there. Fear.

"You're afraid. Why are you afraid?" he asked, squeezing her to him tightly, wishing he could protect her from everything – including her own memories.

"I just...I don't want you to think less of me," Alice admitted slowly.

"Honey, that's just not going to happen," he said gently.

Searching his eyes, Alice must have seen truth there because she laid her head on his chest and started to speak again. "Things were better, but then...she caught me in Cynthia's room and she just flipped out again. She hit me. Again. I told my dad. He just...ignored me.

"I don't know...something snapped, I guess. I just...couldn't take it. I felt hurt, and helpless, and like nothing was ever going to change and she was going to keep doing these awful things to me. I guess...I had some type of a fit. I don't really remember a lot of it. Just that I locked the door to my room and I screamed, and screamed. It felt like… my body was full of just...wrong. I felt ugly on the inside. I saw my reflection and I just looked too... whole. I don't even remember what I was thinking at all...I just picked up the scissors and I started hacking at my hair." Alice unconsciously fingered her still short locks, running her fingers through them absently.

"My daddy said that I'd caught my momma's crazy, and he wouldn't let Cynthia grow up around a crazy person. He was going to have me committed." Alice's voice was faraway, and uncharacteristically small. She sounded so much like a scared little girl. Jasper tightened his arms around her, running his fingers up and down her back.

"I called Uncle Carlisle. I don't even know how he understood me, I was just blubbering so badly. But he talked to my daddy, and he said he and Aunt Esme would take care of me. And daddy just gave me up. Just like that," she finished, her voice cracking a little at the end.

"I'm sorry sweetheart," Jasper whispered against her hair. He stroked her cheek with the backside of his hand. "Your father is an asshole and an idiot to give you up."

Alice shrugged against him. "If he hadn't, we wouldn't have met."

"Just because his loss is my gain doesn't mean you deserve to be hurt like that," Jasper said softly. There was a hint of anger in his tone at the thought of anyone throwing Alice away like that. Like she was nothing. Like she was garbage. She was one of the most precious beings he'd ever met and anyone who couldn't see that was a fool, at the very least.

Alice raised her head off his chest so she could look at him. His eyes softened as they looked down on her. He cupped her face in his hands, using the pads of this thumbs to wipe the tears away. "Have you ever kissed a girl, Jasper?" she asked, looking at him with something other than simple curiosity in her eyes.

Jasper's heartbeat sped up and he glanced at her perfect lips before returning his eyes to hers. He shook his head minutely. Alice hadn't said anything in response. She'd lifted the arm she had wrapped around his waist to his chest as she straightened up. She tugged on his shirt and Jasper automatically responded to her silent direction. He'd brought his face down to hers, tilting his head before pressing his lips to her forehead. He kissed the tip of her nose. Then, Alice tilted her head upward so he was kissing her lips.

Later that night, still not knowing how to have what he wanted with Alice, Jasper lay awake, staring at the ceiling of his room.

"Edward?" he asked into the darkness.

"What?" Edward grumbled, half asleep.

He asked the question that had been on his mind for years now. "Why haven't you ever tried to be...closer with Bella?"

There was a long pause. "What the fuck, Jasper?" Edward finally responded. It was an unspoken rule between them that this particular subject was forbidden.

"Just answer me man, seriously."

When Edward finally answered his voice was sad. "Jazz...he's warped and destroyed anything and everything that has meant something to any of us. If he knew what I...feel for Bella..." he trailed off. "It's the only thing that could destroy me. I don't want to think of what it would do to her."

Silence retook the room. Jasper thought of his father's manipulative nature and knew that Edward was right.

He couldn't help but notice that James had managed to destroy another of his dreams without even having to say a word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N So I think now is a good time to reassure you that there will be a happy ending to this story.
> 
> Also – just in case you want to, there's a soundtrack for this story available in my profile.
> 
> Again, all my love to Cella and Melly. Thank you so much.


	4. Hell Is For Children

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: There's really not a hell of a lot of happy in this chapter. There will be in future chapters, I promise.
> 
> Disclaimer: These beautiful creations belong to Stephenie Meyer. Only the story line belongs to me.

_**"Hell is for children** _   
_**And you know that their little lives can become such a mess** _   
_**Hell** _   
_**Hell is for children** _   
_**And you shouldn't have to pay for your love with your bones and your flesh"** _   
_**\- Hell is For Children, Pat Benatar** _

_****_The more Jasper thought about it, the more confused he became.

He knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he wanted more with Alice. He wanted to be able to hold her hand around school and call her his girlfriend.

What he didn't know was how to juggle what he wanted and what he could have. He knew Edward was right. If James found out he had any feelings for Alice, he would find a way to exploit it. Just like he exploited Jasper's love for his mother, how he threw it back in his face as often as he could. James had an uncanny ability to find a person's weakness. When he did, he had no qualms about sticking a knife in that open wound and twisting.

At the same time, Jasper didn't think he could get closer to Alice without her knowing. She had already started to question why he had never suggested going to his house. The idea of Alice even meeting James was vaguely horrifying to him. He understood Edward's fear for Bella entirely. He couldn't imagine having to watch James tear Alice down, or hurt Alice the way James hurt Bella.

Logically, though, he knew that James would never lay a hand on or raise his voice to Alice. She was someone else's daughter. Not just anyone, but a man James had to work with; a man who respected James. No, Jasper was quite sure that James would keep up the pretense he had established with most of Forks - that he was kind and patient. Which meant that, while Alice was there, James was unlikely to hurt any of them.

It didn't make Jasper want Alice anywhere near his father, but it did make him realize that there might be something that James feared. Jasper's desperation to keep the secret was natural as breathing to him now, but, as he thought back to the first two years he spent alone with his father, Jasper started to realize that it hadn't always been the case.

It was James that had kept him home from school for a week after that first time. It was James who had sent him back to change when his sleeves weren't long enough to cover the bruises. Then, when Edward had joined the family, he had noticed right away that James kept better control of his temper when the social worker was due for a visit.

Edward had threatened, only once, to tell the social worker what was really going on under James' roof. It was after one of his first beatings, after Edward had tried to fight back physically, when he tried to fight back with the only power he had. The look in James' eyes was so sinister that, for the rest of his life, it would be what came to mind whenever anyone spoke of the devil to Edward. He had grabbed Edward by his arm and shaken him hard enough to make his head ache and his teeth rattle as he screamed at him. "You stupid little shit. Who do you think they're going to believe? Me, or your pathetic ass, getting kicked out of all those foster homes? Hmm?" He had thrown the terrified 13 year old to the ground with such force that he'd dislocated Edward's shoulder. "What are you going to tell the social worker?" James had demanded.

Wracked with the pain that stabbed through his arm, curled on the floor while James stood over him with clenched fists, Edward had stuttered the only word that would save him from further torment. "N-nothing."

"You remember that," James had said before walking away. Edward always had.

But back then, they had been isolated. Jasper had never had any friends in Forks before Edward and Bella. There was no one who cared for him, or who would notice if something really bad happened to him. There had been no one to collaborate their innocence in the matter. Now, the Cullens knew they were all three good kids.

Then again, Carlisle and Esme both also genuinely liked James.

As Alice continued to lead him to private corners of her house to kiss him, Jasper's want to be with her started to overwhelm his fear. With his fear pushed down he started to feel frustration. James' words - that he was weak, that there was something vital missing from him, that he was not a man - had never felt truer.

He sincerely doubted that James had been talking about this - but was it not fear that had kept Jasper complacent for too many long years?

And then...

Jasper would be lying to himself if he didn't acknowledge which part of Alice's story had stuck with him. She had been brave enough to talk to someone about her situation, not once, but twice. First with the counselor, and then when she had called her compassionate Uncle for help. The first time - that her father had started to go to counseling with her gave Jasper an odd sort of hope. Things had been better for a time.

Unable to help himself, Jasper got caught up in wistful what ifs. James must have loved his mother once, or else why would he have married her? Certainly, it had been a warped love but he had been capable of it. Jasper remembered back in the early days, alone with his father. He remembered how, at first, when James was obviously angry he would stop himself, hold back. At the time, Jasper had been shocked and scared of James' livid glare, but now he recognized that James had been trying to control himself. Sometimes, people just needed a wake-up call. As stupid as it was, and most of Jasper acknowledged that it was stupid, he couldn't help but hope there was some part of James that loved him, as a father was supposed to love his son.

When his world had been almost completely devoid of hope for so long, it was impossible not to cling to the tiniest possibility. If there was a chance that James would listen, if there was a chance that, through counseling or whatever, James would realize what he was doing was wrong, didn't he owe it to himself - and Edward and Bella - to take that chance? He thought back to the countless times he'd had to watch helplessly as his father hurt one of them. What if he wasn't so helpless to stop it - all of it?

"You're quiet today," Edward commented, staring at Jasper as they drove home from school one day.

It had been three weeks since Alice had first kissed Jasper, since she'd curled up in his arms and told him all of her story. He wanted, so much, to be the good and brave man Alice deserved.

Jasper glanced at Edward and back out at the road quickly. Edward narrowed his eyes, taking in Jasper's tense posture and the way he drummed the steering wheel to the metal song Edward had put on. He was nervous about something. "Spit it out, Jasper," Edward said, his tone tense but teasing.

Exhaling with a gust, Jasper finally spoke. "I'm going to speak to the counselor...tomorrow."

Edward's half smile faltered and fell. In the backseat, Bella gasped. "About what?" Edward asked tightly, though by the look on his face he had already guessed.

Taking a steadying breath, Jasper looked over at his foster-brother. "What if we could stop it, Edward?"

"Have you lost your mind?" Edward demanded.

"Why are we protecting him? He shouldn't be doing the things he's doing to us," Jasper said, quiet and uncertain, but determined.

"It's not about protecting him," Edward said, running a hand through his hair nervously. "It's about protecting us. Do you know what he'd do to you? He'd kill you."

Jasper shuddered, a stab of cold fear running down his back. "The point of telling someone is to get help. This doesn't have to be our life - just walking on eggshells until the next time he decides one of us deserves a beating."

"And then what?" Edward asked. "Jasper, the most you'd accomplish is getting me and Bella sent away. Then you'd be alone."

"They'd split us up," Bella chimed in quietly. Jasper glanced in the rear view mirror to find her apprehensive eyes staring back at him.

Jasper forced himself to swallow back a wave of panic that their words sent through him. "Maybe that's better. If it gets you out of here," he gestured to their house as he pulled into the driveway, "Then maybe it's for the best."

"The best for who?" Edward chuffed. "There's no where left for us to go, Jasper. They'd put us in different group homes. At least here we have each other. And then what about you? If we weren't there, he'd take everything out on you."

As the afternoon and evening wore on, Edward and Bella continued to try to talk sense into Jasper. It killed him that they were so scared. Edward had tried to mask his fear as anger. He snapped at Jasper all night, picking fights and generally ranting. But Jasper had seen Edward angry before. When Edward was truly angry, he was loud and his eyes sparked with fury. It wasn't that he wasn't mad, the anger was still there, but it was tempered by fear. Edward kept his voice down and Jasper could see the desperation in his eyes.

At first, Bella had been surprisingly vocal about it. It took Jasper a while to realize that, more than just her terror at being separated from both of them, she was ashamed that anyone else would know about the things that happened to her. She was ashamed because there was a very large part of her that believed the things that James told her over and over. That her father would be disappointed in her, and that her own mother didn't want her. She acknowledged that James shouldn't overreact the way he did. She had also concluded that, in most every case, she had known better than to do whatever it was she did to deserve what she got. Her logic was that if she hadn't slipped up in the first place, James would have no reason to overreact.

That only strengthened Jasper's resolve. He remembered, mere weeks before the accident, that he had asked his mother about his father. Maria had tried to explain in a way that Jasper, twelve years old at the time, could understand. One of the things she had explained was that James had always made her feel like his anger, his annoyance, his disappointment, was her fault. She had said that no one deserved to live like that - paying for each tiny mistake or misstep in full.

She had taught Jasper that any problem in any relationship - be it boyfriend and girlfriend, friends, parent to child - should be discussed and understood to be worked out. She had taught Jasper that it was a parent's job to punish their child, but only so far as to make sure they knew there were always consequences to their actions. She had taught him that it was a parent's job to guide their children to be the best people they could.

James hadn't guided them anywhere except into this subservient existence they led - always guessing at what would or wouldn't set him off.

Sure, Jasper could wait, like they planned and dreamed, to be free of James when they turned 18. But, spending so much time around Emmett and Alice Cullen, Jasper had started to figure out that they, he, Edward and Bella, were a lot more fucked up than he could have imagined. Emmett and Alice's relaxed attitudes, especially around their parents, were a direct contrast to life in James' house. Even now, after months of friendship, none of them were ever completely comfortable. They were often nervous, watching each other - and especially Esme and Carlisle - out of the corners of their eyes. Edward had trouble not getting defensive easily. Bella apologized for everything and Jasper...

Jasper realized he was confused about the things he wanted and the things he felt he didn't deserve.

There had to be something wrong with that. The longer they were with James, the more that they would have to fix about themselves. Right now, two and a half years for him and three and a half for Edward and Bella, felt like too long to wait.

On the way to school the next morning, Jasper was distracted and more than aware both Edward and Bella were staring at him.

"Jasper," Edward started as they got out of the car.

"I'm not going to change my mind," Jasper snapped, not looking at his foster brother.

Edward stalked off without another word, clearly agitated. Bella just looked at Jasper with sad, worried eyes. She threw herself into his arms suddenly. "Please," she begged. "Please don't do this."

"I have to try," Jasper whispered back, holding her tightly, trying to convey that he wanted what was best for all of them.

Knowing there was no way he would be able to concentrate in his classes today, Jasper went straight to the counselors office. He only had to wait for a few minutes, but those few minutes felt like torture. Dread, fear, resolve and hope all warred inside of him, twisting him in knots and making his hands shake.

His counselor was a kind looking older woman. She had a generic name. Mrs. Brown. For some reason, he always remembered that. He didn't remember much else about her because he couldn't look at her the whole time he spoke.

Talking about it, describing the things that went on in his house, was surprisingly difficult. His voice cracked on almost the first sentence. Mrs. Brown had immediately handed him a tissue box which he took gratefully, not because he wanted to wipe his eyes but because he desperately needed something to do with his hands. He took a deep breath, worrying the tissue between his hands. As he started to speak, he began tearing the tissue into strips. Part of him screamed that he was making a mess and that Mrs. Brown would be angry, but at that point he had pushed most of his emotions to the very back of his mind so he was numb as he spoke.

At first, Jasper only talked about the things James did to him. She asked if he had any bruises or injuries on his body now and he pulled up his sleeve wordlessly. There was a yellowing bruise there from several days previous. James had been sitting at the table eating his dinner when Jasper came downstairs looking for a new light bulb to replace the one that had burned out. Almost as soon as he heard Jasper on the stairs James had called him into the kitchen. He had ranted that the salt was not on the table where it belonged. Jasper had timidly pointed out that the salt was right behind him on the counter, within easy reach. At James' glare he had crossed the kitchen and retrieved the salt for his father. James had shoved him. The bruise was from where his arm had impacted the edge of the counter as he fell. It was small, and fading.

When Mrs. Brown asked about Edward and Bella, Jasper paused, feeling strangely guilty about telling their stories when he knew they were so against it. But he had come this far, so he started talking again, continuing to shred the tissue into ever smaller pieces.

Mrs. Brown asked gentle, clarifying questions throughout.

"Why was he so angry at what Bella found in the bathroom?" She asked after Jasper had spoken about the worst punishment Bella had ever received, just a couple of weeks previous.

Jasper's breath caught in his throat as he stared down at his feet, watching the tiny shreds of tissue fall to the ground like snow. He knew he could get James in trouble with the law if he revealed his extracurricular drug selling. Despite all the things he had suffered at his father's hands, there was a loyalty built into Jasper that was difficult to break. He wanted the pain and the fear to stop, but beyond that he did not wish any ill will on his father.

And maybe, if he realized that Jasper had still lied for him, kept  _this_ secret, he could forgive him for the rest.

The lie came out of him fluidly, with a ease borne of four years under his father's roof - and more lies to the world outside his home than he could count. "I don't know what it was. Maybe it was something embarrassing. I never asked."

When it was over, the floor of Mrs. Brown's office was littered with tiny fragments of white. Jasper tried to pick them up but she assured him it was no big deal. She gave him a hug and told him that the people from Child Protective Services would probably want to talk to him soon.

A huge knot formed in his stomach.

Jasper's tumultuous and disturbed emotions were a stark contrast to the jovial mood that the rest of the school seemed to be in. It was finals week and it was Friday. They were all looking forward to winter break. They would all be out of school for two weeks.

Two weeks was a long time. Long enough for him to heal if James...

Jasper refused to let himself think about it. Done was done and he couldn't take it back.

The morning passed in a daze. Jasper vacillated between thinking about James' reaction to being hauled into the CPS office and hoping against hope that, somehow, it would all be alright; that the nightmare his life was would finally be over. Change was, in some ways, equally terrifying, but he told himself he couldn't live his life afraid of everything. Still, he broke out in cold sweats and his hands trembled badly enough that he was glad all of his finals were over. He never would have been able to write with his fingers shaking as they were.

It was getting to the end of his Spanish II class, his final class before lunch, when the door opened and a student aide came in. He handed the teacher, Senora Goff, a slip of paper. Jasper's heart started to pound in his chest. Senora Goff looked the slip over and glanced up. "Senor Whitlock, your father is waiting for you out front."

Jasper's head snapped up and the knot in his stomach seemed to bolt straight up to his chest, making it difficult to breathe. He blinked at his teacher several times as he stood woodenly. He hadn't expected that he would have to be there when the CPS people confronted his father. Dread crept through his entire body like ice water pumping through his veins. How he managed to walk to the front of the class and take the slip of paper from his teacher he would never know. "Feliz navidad, Jasper!" Senora Goff said cheerfully as he exited the classroom.

Merry Fucking Christmas indeed.

He felt like he was walking to his execution as he walked through the halls of Forks High. Voices and sounds melded around him, distorting in his ears. He couldn't hear anything outside of his pounding heart. He would have sworn it was beating so loudly that everyone could have heard it.

His world snapped back into focus when he saw Edward and Bella waiting by the front door of the school. It took Jasper's brain a few moments to restart. Edward looked angry and Bella looked anxious. Neither of them said a word as they walked to where James' white SUV idled in the parking lot. Bella slipped her hand quickly into Jasper's and squeezed with all her might. Edward didn't even look at him, but he seemed to take pity on him as he slid into the front seat with James, leaving the backseat to Jasper and Bella.

"What did you tell them?" James demanded as soon as the doors were closed and they were peeling out of the parking lot.

Jasper could feel the fury coming off of him in waves. He felt anger spark inside his own chest, overwhelming the anxiety. "I didn't tell then anything that wasn't the truth," he snapped, his words hard.

James glared at his son in the rear-view mirror. "When this is over, boy, I swear to god I'm going to make you regret that you were even born," he threatened, his voice low and dangerous.

Jasper crossed his arms and bit his tongue to keep from responding. He seethed quietly, not looking at Bella who he knew was looking at him with those worried eyes of hers. He was sorry that she was scared - for him, and for the very real possibility that they would be split up. Jasper's heart seemed to leap up into his throat at the thought of not being able to see Edward and Bella again. They were his lifeline. He swallowed hard, telling himself that regardless of what happened, it was better if James lost custody of them. If all this accomplished was to stop them fro ever being hurt by James again, it was worth it. And there was always school. Unless they were shuffled off to Port Angeles, he would still see them at school...

They got to the CPS office and when James got out, Jasper's stomach churned. His face was an absolute mask of concern with a little sadness mixed in. There was not even a hint of irritation on his features. All of the fury had been wiped clean. It was hard to imagine, looking at him, that he would raise his hand to anyone, let alone the three teenagers in his care.

The CPS workers were calm and friendly, greeting them all. They took the teenagers into a waiting room while they talked to James. Jasper immediately curled up in one of the chairs, drawing his legs up to his chest and burying his head in his arms.

None of them said anything. There was nothing they could think of to say. Edward held Bella on the couch, searching for words he didn't have. They were all terrified. The tiny flame of hope that Jasper had allowed to burn, that he had put in his sights for weeks now, flickered, threatening to extinguish completely. The sick feeling in Jasper's stomach grew worse until, finally, he couldn't handle it anymore. He bolted into the tiny bathroom that was attached to the room and fell to his knees, emptying what little he had in his stomach.

Edward and Bella were there in an instant, Bella keeping his long hair out of his eyes, running her fingers along his scalp soothingly, and Edward putting a comforting hand on his back.

"They're going to believe him, aren't they?" Jasper asked, his voice shaky as he rested his head on the rim of the toilet seat.

Edward and Bella still had no words. Instead of speaking, Bella retrieved a little paper cup of water for him and Edward helped him to his feet.

The CPS workers never even talked to them separately. They would find out, later, that James had spun a story about how he and Jasper had been getting in arguments lately. Jasper had been acting out. As part of the foster family agency, Edward and Bella were going on a field trip of sorts to Port Angeles to use some of the gift certificates they had received for Christmas. Jasper had been invited, but James had told him a few nights ago he couldn't go because of his behavior. He painted a picture that made it easy to believe that Jasper's actions today had been in retaliation. It was not uncommon.

In reality, Jasper was always happy when Edward and Bella could take advantage of the limited privileges they were provided by the foster family agency. He hadn't even thought about asking to go. He knew James wouldn't have let him anyway.

As the visit drew to a close, James pulled Jasper into a hug. Jasper felt sick, almost dirty, but said nothing as his father hugged him for perhaps the second time in his life. He stood quietly, staring at the floor while the CPS workers encouraged James to go to family counseling with Jasper. James told them he thought it was a good idea and thanked them genuinely.

"I don't think we need to tell the agency about this," one of the CPS workers said to James as they headed to the door. "No need to complicate matters."

At that, Jasper felt a huge weight lift from his chest, enough that he could breathe a little easier. He was still sick, and scared out of his mind for what was coming. Knowing that Edward and Bella would be there still and he wouldn't have to face the upcoming evening or the next two and a half years of his life alone meant that he would survive. He suddenly knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that if they weren't there to save him, James would have broken him already.

As they walked down the steps outside the CPS office, Edward put a hand on Jasper's arm briefly, voicing his support silently. When they slid into the back seat Bella squeezed his hand again, telling him she'd be there. It was enough that Jasper didn't feel like he was walking to his own death, though death probably would have been preferable to what he was sure he was about to face. But he recognized that, just as he desperately needed Edward and Bella right now, they needed him as well.

He would survive for them. He would survive because of them.

The car ride home was eerily silent. James didn't speak. Didn't turn on the radio. Didn't make a sound. They could see his knuckles clenched so hard around the steering wheel that they were white.

Jasper was trying desperately to contain his fear, but his entire body was shaking with it. Bella slipped her small hand into his again, finding his palm damp with the sweat that had broken out all over his body. His face was bone pale, completely drained of blood. Her hand was shaking too, and her cheeks were wet with silent tears, afraid of what James would do to him.

By the time they got home, Jasper was a wreck. He was glad he had thrown up at the CPS office or he was sure he'd have thrown up all over James' precious SUV. His stomach twisted violently with the anxiety he felt and he struggled to keep his breath steady despite his pounding heart.

Jasper only barely stifled the agonized groan when James pulled into the garage instead of parking in the driveway as he normally did. He tried several times to depress the button that unlocked his seat belt before he was successful. It was lucky he did because in the next second, James was out of his seat and flinging Jasper's door open. He grabbed his son by the hair, dragging him out of the vehicle. Jasper struggled to remain on his feet, stumbling as he was yanked through the door, into the living room. James flung Jasper away from him and he nearly fell, the dizziness briefly overwhelming the intense pain in his scalp.

"What did you think you were doing?" James' voice was dangerously steady.

Jasper didn't answer. He stared at the floor with his fists clenched at his sides. Explosive anger and complete terror warred inside of him, each vying for control over his actions. He took a deep breath, trying to think through the throbbing in his head and fighting to keep in control of himself. His head suddenly snapped to the side as James slapped him violently enough that Jasper staggered.

"Look me in the eye like a man when I'm talking to you," James demanded.

With considerable effort, Jasper lifted his head.

His eyes skipped passed his father, finding Edward and Bella where they stood in the doorway. Bella had her face hidden in Edward's chest, clutching one hand around his waist and the other over her ear. She was obviously crying. Edward held her to him with one arm while the other hung at his side, curled into a fist much like Jasper's was. His eyes were trained on James and he was obviously fuming. Jasper caught Edward's eye, shaking his head minutely in warning.

James slapped Jasper again, and again Jasper staggered under the force of the blow. "I said look at me!" James shouted.

This time, Jasper obeyed. James' eyes were narrowed, and full of such malice that fear quickly engulfed Jasper's body, easily overtaking any anger that had been building in him. He backed away instinctively, like a weaker animal facing down a much larger predator.

James had always preyed on fear.

He stalked forward, pushing Jasper against the wall hard enough that he gasped. He gave his son no time to recover as he drove his fist into his chest. Jasper curled in on himself so the next blow caught him across the shoulder. "You pathetic piece of shit," James yelled as he continued to pummel him. "I can't imagine a more worthless excuse for a man than you. You can't take a little hit without sniveling and crying to the nearest woman you can find."

"Dad-," Jasper started to plead, but James grabbed his wrist and twisted viciously. Jasper's words cut off with a tormented cry as he collapsed to his knees under the pain.

"Don't you call me that!" James shouted. "My son wouldn't be the whining, weak little baby," he punctuated the word by twisting Jasper's wrist further behind his back, causing Jasper to scream, "that you are."

At that point Jasper was leaning so far forward, braced on the arm that was not wrenched behind his back, that his nose nearly touched the ground. He struggled to breathe through the pain and rein in the part of him that wanted to sob. His tears wouldn't help, no matter how much pain he was in.

"Stop it!" Bella suddenly screamed, unable to take it anymore. Spending the entire day nervous and on edge had them all wound tight. James had his free arm raised, about to strike his son again. Bella flew out of Edward's arms, across the room and grabbed at James' arm, trying to pull him away from Jasper. "Leave him alone, you asshole!"

"Fuck, Bella," Edward cursed as he hurried after her, trying to pull her back.

Without letting go of Jasper, James twisted his body, propelling Bella away from him. Bella and Edward both went flying backward, hitting the back of the couch and landing in a tangle of limbs on the floor. James threw Jasper's arm down, kicking him once in the stomach sharply. "Don't move, boy, I'm not finished with you."

He turned then to Edward and Bella. They were both getting to their feet. Edward pushed Bella behind him as James came forward but it wasn't any use. James was physically stronger and Edward knew well enough, especially now, that fighting back was more dangerous than anything. James grabbed him by a fist-full of his shirt and wrenched him away from Bella and throwing him against the wall. Momentarily stunned, Edward couldn't shake off the stupor long enough to get back up to defend Bella. James grabbed her by the arm and started hauling her toward the kitchen.

Bella figured out what he was doing only seconds before he opened the door to the basement. Her legs buckled as she gasped. "No!" She screamed, terrified. "Please don't. I'm sorry. Don't do this, James. Please," she begged him quickly. He knew the cramped, damp basement was one of her worst nightmares. He had thrown her down there once, without light, food or water for almost an entire day. Ever since then, even going near the door made her nervous.

He pulled her up to her feet, bending her head back so it was almost resting on his shoulder. Bella yelped at the sharp pain as he tugged on her hair. "You and I are going to have a little discussion about your filthy fucking mouth and respect, tomorrow," he promised. He pushed her forward and Bella stumbled down several stairs before catching herself.

By then Edward had gotten to his feet again and sprinted after James and Bella. Not wanting to deal with him, James grabbed him and shoved him into the darkness, slamming the door behind him. There was the sound of the deadbolt twisting and then silence, save for his and Bella's ragged breathing.

Carefully, Edward felt his way down the remaining steps to where she was at on the staircase. He sat down beside her and pried her hands away from the wooden railing she was grasping with all of her might. He whispered to her softly and her body relaxed enough so that Edward could pull her to him.

"It's going to be okay," he said, but they both knew he was lying.

"He's going to kill him, Edward," Bella said shakily. "Why did he have to do it? Why did he have to tell?"

Edward couldn't find the words to comfort her, so he just held her, letting her cry into his shirt while silent tears streamed down his own cheeks, landing in her hair. This was going to be bad, one way or another. He struggled not to break down, knowing he had to be strong for Bella and knowing Jasper would need someone to take care of him. But it was so much to deal with. The sickening dread in his stomach for what was happening to his foster brother; the maddening helplessness he always felt when James was hurting Jasper or Bella and he couldn't stop it. Anger the churned inside of him like a hurricane - all storm black clouds and unfathomable rage. Worst of all was the fear that rocked him to his very core that it was possible that one or all of them would not survive this house to make it to adulthood.

And then there was the nagging voice in the back of his head that told him they all deserved what they got.

Most of him knew that it was ludicrous to think that any of them deserved this, but there was that small part of him that believed every word James said. They had it better than a lot of kids. They were well clothed and well fed. James only lashed out at them when provoked, not for his own sadistic pleasure. If only Jasper had not rocked the boat. If only Bella had not tried to stop James from doling out his punishment.

But they could never turn back the clock. They could never undo their mistakes and missteps.

They could hear the creaks in the floorboards with whatever was going on in the living room above them. They could hear James' voice, distorted by the walls and space between them, shouting. They didn't hear Jasper's voice at all. Edward knew, when James let them out of here, he would have to see his best friend's battered body. He knew, tomorrow, James would punish Bella while he was helpless to do anything but listen. He knew a little piece of him would fester and die in his body seeing both of them suffer, adding another invisible weight to the pressure in his chest, squeezing his heart.

The noises stopped well before James came to let them out. The deadbolt turning in the silence that had engulfed the house was ominous. Edward held Bella tighter, as if he could keep her safe if James wanted to rip her from his arms. The door opened and they both blinked up into the too-bright light. James glared down at the two of them, as if daring them to test his patience tonight. They both dropped their gazes submissively, not giving him a reason. James flexed his fingers, probably sore from driving them so many times into Jasper's body. "Get out here," he barked.

Edward stood, keeping his arm wrapped around Bella's waist. James stayed in the doorway, forcing them to walk right passed him into the kitchen. He gripped Bella's arm tightly but did not pull her toward him. Bella was too frightened to keep from crying out. "When I get home from work tomorrow, you'd better be waiting for me in your room." James' tone was deadly, allowing no room for argument. He let her go and turned before she could answer, and went back out toward the living room. A few seconds later they heard the door open and slam. Then James' SUV starting.

Bella let out a soft mewling sound, releasing her terror at whatever James had planned for her tomorrow. She shook her head, trying to force the apprehension away. Jasper needed her now. She would face James when it was time.

They entered the living room slowly, hand in hand with Edward leading. The living room was fairly intact. One of the end tables lay in splinters, no doubt from Jasper being thrown into it, but other than that the room was no worse for the wear. Jasper, however, was another story. Edward had to swallow hard to push down the bile that rose to his throat when he saw his friend.

Jasper lay on his side in the middle of the room, his back facing them. His shirt was torn, hanging low off one shoulder. Edward could see spots of blood on his shirt and undershirt. The exposed skin of his shoulders was already bruising. His blond hair was dark with sweat, sticking to his neck and dusting the top of his back. His legs were curled up close to his chest.

"Bella," Edward said as calmly as possible, needing to give her a task. He wanted to check out the extent of the damage before she had a chance to see the worst of it. "Go get me some clean towels and the biggest bowl of hot water you can manage, okay?"

Bella nodded quickly, her wide, sad eyes not leaving Jasper for another long moment before she hurried off to get what he asked.

As soon as she was gone, Edward stepped around Jasper and knelt at his side. Jasper's face was even paler than before, especially set against the stark contrast of his sweat darkened hair. His eyes were fluttering, so he was conscious, but only barely. His breath was labored, coming out in pants with faint groans every now and again. Aside from the slight bruising on his cheek from where James had slapped him early on, James seemed to have stayed away from Jasper's face. His clothing was torn in several places, and he was holding his left hand against his chest. It was immediately obvious that his wrist was broken. Edward grimaced, knowing that James would not take him to a hospital.

"Jazz," Edward said, reaching forward to push gently on Jasper's shoulder. Jasper's eyes shot open, groaning in pain at his brother's touch. "Shit. Sorry," Edward said quickly.

Jasper only shook his head slightly, his glassy eyes not focusing. There weren't a lot of places on his body that weren't throbbing. He closed his eyes briefly and rolled onto his back, fighting the wave of nausea that came with the pain of moving.

"Your wrist is broken," Edward informed him. Jasper nodded again that he knew that. "Anything else?"

He couldn't answer right away. He wiggled his toes, grateful to find that, despite the kicks to the back he'd endured tonight he could still move his arms and legs. Breathing was difficult, though it was hard to figure out if it was just the bruising or if anything was cracked. "Ribs, maybe," he whispered.

Edward helped him sit up, apologizing the entire time as Jasper groaned at the various spasms of pain in his body. They had managed to get Jasper propped up against the couch when Bella came back with a pot of water in her hands and clean towels tucked under her arm.

Between the three of them they got Jasper out of his shirt and undershirt, exposing only shallow cuts and a myriad of different hues of purple, red and black bruises. Hardly any of his skin was white anymore. Edward excused himself to find an icepack to bring the swelling down on Jasper's wrist. Bella stayed behind, using the water and towels she'd brought to clean the cuts and scrapes on Jasper's body. He hissed every so often as she worked. "Oh, Jasper," Bella whispered, tearing up.

Jasper's head had been lolling on the couch cushion as he caught his breath from the exertion of getting his shirt off. He rolled his head in her direction, his eyes opening just enough so he could look at her. He swallowed a couple of times, licking his dry lips so he could talk. "I'm not broken, baby girl. I bend really well," he promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I would like to tell you that things like this don't happen in real life. However, you and I both know that they do. I would like it to be clear that I am in NO WAY trying to say the Child Protective Services are inept or anything like that. The fact of the matter is they have to decide whether abuse is actually taking place or whether it is a child vying for attention. It's an insanely hard thing to prove.
> 
> Thanks again to Melly who is my sunshine. She also writes hot Carlisle/Bella sex. ::shudders:: You should check it out. Dizzygrl28!


	5. Bent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Couple quick things about last chapter that have come up in discussion.
> 
> Objection 1: CPS wouldn't act that way. I try not to come down on CPS as inept because many of them do good work. The fact that they, like doctors, have influence over other people's lives does not exempt them from making mistakes and errors in judgment. As validation, the events of the last chapter, as far as the whole CPS incident goes, was personal - it happened almost verbatim that way. So I know it happens - it happened to me.
> 
> Objection 2: Especially after James' reaction - they could have done something to get themselves away from James. This is, technically, true. If they had called the cops after James beat Jasper like that they would have been able to prove it was him. However, part of the entire point of writing this story is to portray, and I hope I can do this better justice in the future, that the mindset of an abused person is not a normal or logical mindset. They are running in a survival mode, they are running on fear. You can't imagine the strength it took for Jasper to go to someone, and obviously it bit him in the ass. None of them are going to be doing that again anytime soon. You must remember also that they are just kids. Kids who have been subjected to years of verbal and physical abuse. Their minds are, for want of a better term, warped. Bent, if you will.
> 
> But not broken.
> 
> Disclaimer: These beautiful creations belong to Stephenie Meyer. Only the story line belongs to me.

_**"If I fall along the way  
Pick me up and dust me off  
And if I get too tired to make it  
Be my breath so I can walk  
If I need some other love  
Give me more than I can stand  
And when my smile gets old and faded  
Wait around I'll smile again,"  
-Bent, Matchbox 20** _

Jasper spent most of the day after his horrible beating either asleep or in a haze of pain. Everything hurt. Everything ached. He couldn't even breathe without waves of agony passing through him. Edward and Bella had helped him to his room the night before, and he hadn't moved from the bed since then. They'd been in and out all day, trying to get him to eat or seeing what else he needed. Edward had kept him in cold compresses to keep the swelling on his wrist, which he had helped him set last night, down. The pain was exhausting, so he slept frequently, but it also woke him easily. It was a frustrating state of being.

It was dark outside when Jasper opened his eyes again. He blinked at the window, his mind feeling muddled and thick as he tried to process the uneven passage of time. Then he became aware of an anxious feeling that was trying to bring awareness back to him. The hairs on the back of his neck raised and he finally registered that his father was in his room, standing in the doorway. Without thinking about it, Jasper sat up quickly. He laid back down just as quickly, gasping at the fresh wave of agony that tore through his body. He heard James scoff as he panted, trying to catch his breath. It didn't help that Jasper's heart started to pound against his chest as his body tensed, waiting for his father's reaction. It wouldn't be the first time James had hit him for not being a man and Jasper could not fathom being hit again when he was already in so much pain.

But James only muttered, "Stop with the melodrama, boy."

Jasper said nothing. As he struggled to catch his breath, his eyes followed James as he came and crouched by his bed. He forced himself to look James in the eye, not wanting to provoke him. To Jasper's immense relief, his eyes were hard but lacking the malice he'd seen in them last night.

"Alice Cullen," he started lowly, "Has been calling you all day, today. You're going to call her and tell her we're going away for the winter break. You're not going to say anything else, do you understand me?"

Jasper swallowed thickly, hearing the implied threat. James needn't have bothered. He wasn't going to do anything that stupid again. Ever. "Yes, sir," he mumbled.

James handed him his cell phone and stood, arms folded, watching Jasper as he dialed.

"Hello?"

It was amazing how, even with his father standing threateningly over him and his body wracked with a terrible aching, Alice's voice could bring him a measure of happiness. He made sure to keep the smile off his face by reminding himself that it would be at least two weeks before he could see her. "Hey Alice."

"Jazz!" she squealed happily. "I was so worried. Emmett said you guys left school early yesterday. I thought something might have happened."

Jasper suppressed a scoff. "Yea, I'm sorry. It was a bit of a surprise. We're leaving for the holidays tomorrow morning, actually."

"Oh," the disappointment in Alice's voice was evident. It made Jasper feel warm inside, even as it made him feel guilty. He hated upsetting Alice. "Well, damn. I wanted you to come over." She paused. "But...if you guys aren't going until tomorrow, why did your dad yank you out of school yesterday?"

"Uh," Jasper stumbled. "He wanted to surprise us." James cleared his throat and eyed Jasper with an impatient look. "I have to go Alice. We're almost done packing."

"Okay! Call me later if you can, and call me when you get home. I have gifts for all of you. I would have brought them to school on Friday if I'd known you were going to be gone," Alice said cheerfully.

Jasper grimaced. He could have guessed that she would be the kind to buy gifts. "Have a Merry Christmas, Alice," he said quietly as he hung up the phone. He handed the cell back to James, and his father left without another word. Jasper breathed easier when he was out of the room. He heard James' voice and Edward's in the hallway. A few minutes later, Edward and Bella came in the room.

Automatically, his eyes scanned them, not knowing what he might have missed as he slept. Edward looked tense - like when he was holding back his anger. Jasper saw the reason easily enough. Bella had obviously been crying and she winced when she sat on the bed next to him. He had forgotten that she had cursed at James last night; obviously James hadn't. "I'm sorry, Bella."

Bella shrugged, looking down. "It's not your fault and it wasn't that bad." She looked up again and gave him a half-hearted smile. "I was more worried about you when he came in here."

"Alice has been calling," Jasper explained. "He made me call her and tell her that we're on vacation." He chuffed and then looked over at Edward. "What did he say to you in the hallway?"

Edward held up a proper brace and a bottle of pills. "I guess this is the closest thing to an apology you're ever going to get."

It was Vicodin - a half bottle full of it. Jasper let out a strangled sounding laugh. He wondered if some small part of his father was sorry. Chagrin came on the heels of the hope that started to stir in him. He had to laugh again, disgusted with himself. His father had beaten him to the point he could barely move and here it was, the next day and Jasper was ready to forgive him like the stupid, fucking puppy that had been kicked over and over and still licked its master's hand.

He felt frustrated tears gather and he closed his eyes. But then Edward was there, wordlessly unwrapping his wrist from the makeshift brace he'd put it in last night and fitting the brace James had brought to it instead. Then Bella was there with a glass of water and a straw so he wouldn't have to sit up much to drink. She'd brought him a little of the dinner Edward had cooked that night. "Eat something. You won't be able to keep the pain pill down if you don't have something in your stomach." Jasper quirked an eyebrow at her. She smiled and turned the bottle toward him. "It says so right here."

Then Jasper had to smile. Regardless of whatever else his life was, the one thing he did not doubt is that he could count on Edward and Bella. They were everything to him.

A week passed and Jasper was feeling a lot better. Moving and breathing weren't comfortable, but at least it wasn't excruciating any longer. A lot of the lighter bruising had started to turn that sickly yellow-green color.

"This is much more Halloween-themed than Christmas themed," Jasper commented to Edward as the younger boy helped him get his wrist brace back on. He'd just taken a shower and while he had managed to get into his pants one-handed, he needed Edward's help with the brace and his shirt. He still couldn't lift his arms very well.

Apart from the pain, the last week had been very peaceful. Jasper had been worried, knowing that James had to have taken the two weeks off of work to back-up their claim that they were out of town. But James spent almost every day away from the house, doing who knew what, who knew where. A few nights he didn't come home at all. Edward and Bella had been doing all of the chores, making sure that James had no reason to complain when he was around.

It was Christmas Eve and Jasper wanted to spend the night outside of his room. James was gone. Edward and Bella had cooked an obscene amount of Mexican-related foods. Jasper had smelled the green chilies from the chicken enchiladas before he'd gotten into the shower. When he finally made it downstairs, walking slowly, he was surprised to see that they had laid all the food out on the coffee table in the living room. "Here?" he questioned softly.

"I heard James on the phone. He was making plans to be at some party," Edward shrugged. "Should be okay. He was at a party last year, remember?"

Jasper nodded, swallowing back his nervousness. His stomach grumbled in anticipation looking out at the spread. They'd even made nachos just like Esme always did - with everything on them.

They spent the night eating and laughing together, watching bad Christmas movies. It was easy and almost normal. At midnight, Edward and Bella had given Jasper the I-Pod they'd bought him when they had been shopping in Port Angeles with the foster agency. As foster kids, Edward and Bella got certain things automatically. Their agency had given them the iPod's at Christmas last year. It was one of the few possessions they owned that James couldn't touch – because the social worker knew they had it. Edward and Bella also got a monthly allowance. It was small, but it was more than Jasper had. They had both been saving the majority of their allowances for the better part of a year to get Jasper the iPod.

"I don't have anything for you," Jasper said sadly.

"Pffft," Bella said, "It's not like we got it because we wanted something back." She smiled at him, a full and genuine smile. "You should have one, Jasper. You love music."

"Look at it this way," Edward said, knowing Jasper well enough to know that he felt guilty, however needlessly, "You're going to go to college before us, which means you're going to graduate before us. That means, when we're still poor college seniors, living off of Top Ramen and Macaroni and Cheese, you're going to be kicking ass at…whatever it is you decide to do. Then, Christmas is at your place."

Jasper smirked, but he started to open the box to get at his new I-Pod. "When we get to see Alice and Emmett, we can fill it," Bella said. When she and Edward had gotten their I-Pods last year, Edward had asked Eric Yorkie for the favor of filling them with music, knowing James wouldn't ever let them install the programs they needed on his computer. Since they'd started hanging out with Alice and Emmett, music had been easier to come by.

At the mention of her name, Jasper's thoughts automatically went to Alice. He missed her horribly that week. He had reasoned it was because they had seen each other almost every day since September. If he was being honest with himself, he knew it ran much deeper than that. He missed her voice, her humor, her conversation. He missed her giggle as she tugged him to a quiet corner of her house to kiss him. That was the good thing about a mansion - there were always quiet corners and nooks where one could find a little privacy.

Not quite ready to go to sleep, the trio had started another movie. Jasper barely paid attention to it. He was lost in thought as to what to do about Alice. He wasn't an idiot. He knew that way she looked at him and he knew that she would eventually get tired of sneaking kisses and nothing else.

He wanted to be strong enough to be able to take her out of the darkness and tell everyone, Alice included, how he felt about her. The last week had left him feeling bowed and conquered. His father would find a way to use Alice against him. He would know. If Jasper were to take any relationship with Alice public, James would hear about it.

Jasper was brought out of his brooding by Bella's breathy voice. "Edward," she mumbled. He glanced over to see that Edward and Bella were both fast asleep on the couch. He had to smile at the way they'd fallen asleep. Bella was curled up against him, tucked safely under his arm. In sleep she looked peaceful and protected. "Edward," she mumbled again, nuzzling him as she murmured.

"Hmm?" Edward responded, not really awake. He pulled her closer unconsciously, his head falling softly on top of hers.

Jasper watched his two best friends as he brooded about things he wanted versus what he could have. Edward and Bella were beautiful together, but their relationship was bittersweet. They had stolen moments like these while they both pretended they were no more to each other than two kids living in the same household. Jasper could live on stolen moments with Alice forever if it meant he got to have her in his life and he'd get to feel her and kiss her and love her as much as he was able. But it wasn't fair if she didn't know, and he couldn't tell her...

As the rest of the week passed, Jasper continued to try and figure out the situation with Alice. He wished there was someone he could talk to. Edward was his best friend, but Edward also had a significant stake in the complications that could arise if Alice knew about their home life. Edward would tell him to admire her from afar and hope she was still there when he was out of this house. Bella would look at him with worried eyes - Alice was her only girl friend. She wouldn't want Alice to look at her with pity or see her shame. She would want Jasper to be happy and would try to keep her fear for all of them from him, but Jasper knew her too well.

Jasper wished his mother was alive. She would know what to do.

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, he furiously beat it back. His mother was long dead. If she was alive, none of this would be a problem.

If she was alive, he wouldn't have met Alice - or Edward and Bella. He couldn't imagine that. It was a paradox that boggled his mind and only added to the confusion he was feeling.

In the end he decided that it was time to let Alice go. He could not hope to have any relationship with her when they were so unbalanced. He had nothing to give her. He had no money to take her on dates or buy her nice things. He knew enough about relationships to understand that honesty was important, and he could not afford to be completely honest with her. He knew he was weak and not a good enough man for a girl who deserved so much.

As he got ready for school on the first day of the new year, Jasper still didn't know what he was going to say. His stomach felt like it was made of lead and his chest ached with a pain that had nothing to do with the bruises that were almost completely gone now. He was sad and frustrated and angry. Despair threatened to send him into tears, only amplifying his frustration with himself and his situation. Given the choice between the tears that marked his weakness and the anger that poisoned his veins, he chose the anger.

He was angry that he was not a normal teenage boy. He had watched the ever changing and fickle landscape that was high school dating for two years now. He'd seen his classmates lie, cheat, argue and fall in and out of "love" as easily as one changed their shoes. He watched them confuse lust for love and hurt each other as they figured out the differences. They were young - they could afford to play at love.

Jasper was not like them. He knew, if he had the chance and the capability, he would love Alice with the level of devotion she deserved. He didn't know how to play love as a game. His life had taught him that there were very few things that were worth putting enough value on that it would hurt when you lost them. There were five things that were precious to him: Edward, Bella, his car, his iPod and Alice. Edward and Bella walked through every day beside him. As long as his car made life more convenient for his father, it was safe. He had carefully hidden his iPod between his mattresses so it was unlikely James would find it, and he had quickly put it toward the bottom of his backpack that morning. Alice...

Jasper didn't know how keep Alice safe from the darkness that tainted his existence. As it was, he knew he would have to hurt her. That left him back at anger. He was angry that, again, he would not be the only one to suffer.

Because Jasper's wrist was broken, he could not drive. He stared out the window of the bus, ignoring Edward and Bella and everyone else as he seethed quietly. He saw her the instant he pulled into the parking lot. She was swaying back and forth impatiently on the balls of her feet, craning her neck as she looked around. She was frowning, no doubt looking for his car; waiting for all of them to pull up.

Edward and Bella got off first and Alice was over to them almost as soon as she saw them. "Oh, my god I missed you guys! Where's Jasper? Where did you guys go? How was your Christmas and New Year and...why are you on the bus?" she asked in rapid succession as she threw herself first into Edward's and then into Bella's arms, hugging them tightly.

Just the sight and sound of her soothed Jasper's anger. She was adorable. He adored her.

He stepped off the bus slowly and her eyes snapped to him. She grinned, her face brightening just at the sight of him. She came flying forward and Jasper braced himself, but right as she got to him Bella called out a warning. "Careful, Alice!"

Alice turned to her, perplexed. "What?"

"We went skiing for Christmas and Jasper took a nasty fall," Edward told the story they'd agreed upon the night before.

Alice's eyes shot up to Jasper, wide and concerned. Sheepish, Jasper pulled back the sleeve of his jacket to show her his braced wrist. "Oh, no."

"I'm fine," Jasper assured her, pulling her into a quick hug. "Just a little bruised, that's all"

Alice fussed over him a bit as they walked into school. Thankfully, the bus dropped them off with fairly few minutes to spare so Jasper did not have to keep up the cheerful pretense for long. In class, he could hardly pay attention, thinking about what was coming, laughing bitterly to himself when he realized he'd spent the last day in school, before the break, similarly distracted. Then he'd had some hope, but now he only felt crushed.

As soon as his last class before lunch let out, he made his way to Alice's classroom. He was waiting for her outside the door when she came out.

"Come take a walk with me," he said, not looking at her. He started to walk away before she answered, but he knew she was behind him. He led her outside and behind the school, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes briefly. When he opened them she was staring with drawn, sad eyes; as if she had seen the future and knew what he was about to say.

He opened his mouth and closed it several times, a few sounds that might have been fragments of words coming out as he tried to figure out how he was going to do this. He sighed, letting out a frustrated growl. "I like kissing you," he said finally. "But I can't do it anymore; because I can't...it's just not going to go anywhere."

There was a pause as she blinked, taking in this information and processing it. "Why, Jasper?" she whispered, and the hurt in her voice felt exactly like a punch in the gut - he would know.

"I don't know how to tell you," he admitted, his voice strained .

The difficult thing about keeping this from Alice was that when he looked down, she could still see his eyes as she was looking up at him. She stared, trying to figure out what it was that was keeping them apart. Jasper was obviously hurting. He wanted her desperately, but he was holding back. She didn't understand it. She tried to understand why he would want to hold back.

"It's your dad, isn't it?" Alice concluded.

Jasper's eyes went wide as he looked up, suddenly panicked. "What?" The word sounded strangled.

"He won't let you date?" Alice guessed.

He stared at her, dumbfounded. "That's...yea. That's it," he stuttered. It was a genius response he wished he had thought of sooner. It was even true, from a certain point of view.

To his surprise, Alice suddenly smiled. "It's not that you don't want me?"

"God, Alice... how could I not want you?" he said before he could stop himself.

She smiled again, wider and wrapped her arms around him, holding his eyes with hers as she pressed her tiny body against his. "Then it's okay, Jasper. We don't have to tell anyone. We can keep this between us." She stood on her toes, tilting her face up invitingly. He obeyed the order her body language dictated like a puppet on a string; he leaned down to kiss her. "Okay?" she asked between gentle kisses.

He kissed her once in surprise. Then he smiled...a huge smile that nearly hurt his face. "Yes," he breathed, the word joyous and hopeful all at once. He kissed her again. "Yes." He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her up and swinging her gently, content to hold her in his arms.

The flame of hope that had burned down to glowing embers suddenly found kindling. Maybe he could have this, maybe it could work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ::Satisfied:: There...that was happy, right? Now Jasper has Alice.
> 
> I'll talk to Edward and Bella...they need some work.
> 
> Thanks to all of you for your support. I'm sorry - I didn't realize it'd been so long without an update. My other story, Alice's Jasper, Edward's Bella, kind of took over my life for a bit. But it was just rec'ed on - which, if you have not visited this blog you need to. They're amazing people and amazing writers who rec amazing stories (crap, did I just toot my own horn? Um, I'm not worthy?).
> 
> As usual, I love Dizzygrl28 and I have no idea why she puts up with my needy whore-ness, but I'm infinitely glad she does. You should read her new story Hale Hath No Fury. It'll give you yet another James to hate.
> 
> Let me know what you think...are you surprised I can end a chapter on a happy note? :-p


	6. Shackled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: These beautiful creations belong to Stephenie Meyer. Only the story line belongs to me.

_**"So here I slave inside of a broken dream**_  
 _ **Forever holding on to splitting seams**_  
 _ **So take your piece and leave me alone to die**_  
 _ **I don't need you to keep my faith alive**_  
 _ **I know now what trouble can be**_  
 _ **And why it follows me so easily**_ ,"  
 _ **\- Shackled, Vertical Horizon**_

Edward's eyes opened and he blinked in the darkness of the room. A glance at the clock on the nightstand told him it was just after 2 A.M. He grumbled, frowning to himself, wondering vaguely why he was awake. Then he registered the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Something was wrong.

His eyes darted over to Jasper's bed but he could see his friend's form easily. Awareness continued to filter down into Edward and he saw that Jasper was still asleep - taking deep, even breaths.

Then he heard it. An anguished cry muffled by the wall between the boy's room and Bella's. Fully awake now, Edward threw the blankets off of himself and padded quickly to the door.

If there was one thing his life had taught him it was to be thankful for small blessings. For instance: James was a ridiculously heavy sleeper. Once he fell asleep, not a lot would wake him. It was a trait Jasper had inherited. They'd both slept through even the loudest of thunderstorms - like during the monsoons when the house literally rattled with the sound of the thunderclaps. On the other hand, Edward was a light sleeper. Maybe it was because he was constantly on the defensive - but he woke at the smallest sound.

Edward pressed his ear against Bella's closed door, listening to make sure he'd really heard her. He was always careful about invading her privacy, not wanting to let himself into her room without her permission unless she needed him.

Bella always talked in her sleep - both of the boys knew that. Even the Cullens knew. She had fallen asleep a handful of times when they were watching movies and she'd started mumbling randomly. Emmett had thought it was hilarious and didn't understand why Edward and Jasper were always quick to wake her.

Occasionally, her nocturnal chattering turned into nightmares, and it was on those nights that Edward woke to hear her screaming in her sleep. With his ear against the door, Edward could hear Bella's continuing struggle against whatever demon plagued her tonight. He turned the doorknob slowly and eased the door open.

His eyes had adjusted to the darkness by then and he saw her immediately. She was thrashing restlessly, emitting tiny whimpers at the back of her throat. "Dad," she cried, pained. Edward's heart twisted for her. Her nightmares often revolved around her father and the violent way he'd died. He crossed the room quickly, laying down beside her, over the covers. He pressed the length of his body against hers and brought one hand up to her shoulder. He called her name quietly, shaking her lightly. She woke with a start, her eyes blurred and panicky. Edward moved his hand from her shoulder to brush the hair out of her eyes, "It's okay," he whispered over and over.

Once her mind had a firm grip on reality, Bella struggled to disentangle herself from the blankets that were wound around her. With her arm around his waist, she pulled herself closer to him, taking deep, calming breaths against his chest.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Edward asked softly when her breathing had evened out. As he expected, Bella shook her head.

Of course, Edward hated that Bella had nightmares but he would be lying if he'd said he didn't enjoy these moments. With James and Jasper fast asleep, they could just be together. He liked being able to hold her when she wasn't crying. Certainly, her nightmare had upset her, but even after the anxiety of it subsided she didn't move from his arms. That was the part he liked.

With his fingers running through her hair, Bella fought the sleepiness that threatened to drag her away. She wanted to savor this moment. "Talk to me," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

"Umm," Edward grasped for subjects. He didn't want to say what was on his mind. He didn't want to tell her that he loved how soft her hair felt around his fingers, or how the tiny weight of her arm around his waist distracted him in ways he wasn't sure he knew how to think about. "Have you noticed how weird Jasper's been acting lately?"

"What do you mean?" Bella's voice was still muffled against his chest.

Edward pursed his lips, unsure how to put words to Jasper's behavior. "Sometimes he's really, really happy. About nothing. Like, a few nights ago, he was just sitting on his bed and grinning like a jackass for no reason. Then, out of no where, he's muttering to himself and scowling." Edward had tried to hook Jasper's moods of late to something tangible and he couldn't. Ever since the CPS incident James had been an even bigger prick than usual, to Jasper especially. Yet the nights when James was especially bad did not coincide with the nights that Jasper was visibly upset.

Bella shifted, rearranging herself so her head was resting on the pillow and they were face to face. "Valentine's Day is next week," she said, as if this answered everything.

"So?"

She stared back at him, searching his eyes. Bella was very observant but so was Edward. He didn't usually miss things. "He and Alice have been slipping off together more often at lunch and when we're at her house," Bella prompted him.

Edward furrowed his eyebrows, trying to figure out what conclusion she was drawing. "They've always done that. You know how they talk."

"Well, right, but they used to kind of wander off together," Bella shrugged. "Now they...sneak off together."

There was silence in the room and Bella bit her lip, trying to hold back her giggles at Edward's perplexed expression. He was thinking back to the last time they were at the Cullen's , just a few days ago. Jasper had been sitting cross legged on the floor, kicking Emmett's ass at Super Smash Brothers. Alice had gotten up, seemingly out of nowhere and left the room without a word. Edward remembered that part clearly because he had seen Bella look after their friend with a puzzled and worried expression on her face - as if part of her wanted to follow Alice and make sure she was alright. He had noticed the tense set of her eyebrows making that worried V for many minutes. Then Jasper had lost, quite badly, and handed over the remote to Edward. He had muttered something about seeing if Alice was okay and Bella had seemed comforted at that.

Looking back on it, it did seem a little shady on Jasper and Alice's parts. They had come back a little while later, chattering happily.

"What does that have to do with Valentine's Day?" Edward asked, a little rocked by the implications.

Bella shrugged. "When you care about someone, sometimes you want to show them that on a special day. Jasper doesn't have anything to give her."

Despite the fact he was still reeling, Edward couldn't help but feel a little bad. "I never thought about Valentine's Day."

Again Bella shrugged. "Doesn't mean much to me. It does to some people, though. When I was little, my dad's best friend Billy's son used to give me a box of conversation hearts every year. He said I was his Valentine."

"Your dad's best friend Billy's son?" he repeated.

With a yawn, Bella nodded. "Mmm hmm," she said sleepily. "Jacob Black. We used to make mud pies together. He lives in La Push."

There was silence between them as Edward considered this. She hardly ever talked about her past with her father. He had never heard the name Jacob Black before. He went through a variety of emotions, wondering if she missed him as a friend, if they should find some way to sneak out to La Push. At the same time he felt a spark of irrational jealousy that some little boy years ago had made Bella his Valentine and played in the mud with her when she was still a carefree child. He moved his hand to her face, stroking the skin at her forehead; running his finger down the delicate bridge of her nose and brushing her cheek. She sighed quietly and her eyelids fluttered. She smiled and they closed.

"You know," Bella said, her voice thin as sleep began to claim her again, "I really don't like conversation hearts. They're chalky. I like those little heart lollipops though." She yawned, and snuggled against him. "You know - those little tiny hearts on those long plastic things." Her voice trailed off as she fell asleep, her breath warm on his face.

He watched her sleep for as long as his eyes would remain open, soaking up the relaxed and peaceful expression she wore. As she slipped deeper into sleep she started to murmur his name, like she always did. His heart clenched again and he wished things could be as simple for them as they were for most couples their age. He wished he could hold her hand and learn how to kiss her and think about doing other things with her. He wanted to hold her in the sunshine, or at the very least outside of this house - without the excuse of her nightmares or the necessity of comforting her after James' viciousness.

Bella murmured his name again and shifted close enough in her sleep that her forehead bumped his. Her silky hair against his skin and the tiny smile on her face quelled the anger that had started to simmer in the pit of his belly. Small blessings, he reminded himself.

When his eyes started to drift closed he sighed and forced himself to pull away. He slid away from her carefully, so as not to wake her. She gave a soft groan in her sleep when his weight was gone from the bed. With a final look at her, Edward tiptoed back to her door, closing it with a quiet snick, and then walked back into his and Jasper's room.

A couple of mornings later Edward was up early because he had slept restlessly. He showered, dressed and stumbled into the kitchen, sorely in need of coffee. As it brewed, the strong scent filled the kitchen and sharpened his senses. His thoughts bounced around between Jasper and Bella's words. He wanted to see Jasper happy, of course, but he couldn't deny the nervousness he felt. He was also more than a little hurt. He and Jasper had never had secrets since the night Edward had broken down and told Jasper about about his parents. Even though he had never said the words out loud, he'd let Jasper see his silent affection for Bella.

Edward was startled from his thoughts by a high pitched giggle and a commotion on the stairs. He grimaced.

James typically left his extra curricular activities outside the house. Even the "friends" he brought over to look at his pill collection typically stayed in the office off of the living room.

Very occasionally, James would bring home a woman he was interested in. They might stick around for a few weeks, but they were all gone sooner rather than later. Edward was just annoyed because it often meant walking in on scenes he'd rather not have wandering around in his head. Depending on James' mood, it had also resulted in a number of bruises designed to remind all three teenagers not to be peeping Toms.

As if he'd ever wanted to see James' naked ass.

Edward rubbed his eyes tiredly as James made his entrance in the kitchen. He looked up carefully, seeing that James was wearing nothing but a pair of flannel pants. The button up shirt that he had been wearing when he left for work the day previous had relocated. It was now buttoned, thank God, on the slim figure that followed him into the kitchen.

It was all she was wearing.

Edward's eyes snapped up automatically, away from her long legs and the curve of her ass. He was startled by shock red hair falling in wild curls around a pale face. His eyes were caught by hers. They were glacial blue, piercing and frozen like the chill of a winter morning hitting your skin like a slap to the face. Her eyes narrowed slightly and she looked feline. Not in the little kitten kind of way but in the full grown lioness fashion, all grace and dangerous claws - like a predator...like James.

He didn't notice James' glare until it was too late. James' hand came up like a flash and whacked him upside the head. "Jesus!" Edward exclaimed, his hand going to the spot James had hit him. His eyes darted from the red head's to James' and then back to the counter because he knew better than to look his foster father in the eye when his own eyes were full of anger.

"Quit being such a fucking pervert and get us some coffee," James demanded. He didn't wait for Edward's response, just grabbed the girl around the waist and sat at the table, waiting to be served. She sat on his lap and he attacked her throat voraciously. She let out another high-pitched giggle, much more mad hyena than hunting lioness.

Filled with venomous thoughts, Edward poured the coffee into two cups. He set them on the table, careful not to let his resentment show by banging them down on the table as he wanted to. He took off toward his and Jasper's room, no longer in need of the coffee. He was already choking on the bitter taste in his mouth and now his head was pounding. He flung the door to the room open but caught it before it banged into wall. Growling with frustration, he walked across the room and sat on his bed. It would have given him some small amount of satisfaction to hear the door crash into the wall. He pounded his fist on the bed but the muted thud did nothing to ease the frustration that made him feel like he was going to explode with the tension.

Jasper eyed him, his eyes automatically looking to see if and where Edward might be hurt. Edward just shook his head.

Jasper finished getting ready, and Bella appeared in their doorway, backpack over her shoulder. They descended the stairs in silence, Jasper and Bella pausing when they heard the playful banter in the kitchen. They heard a guttural, "Victoria..." from James and then a moan. They all walked faster, hurrying out the door without looking toward the kitchen.

"You met her, I take it," Jasper asked as they backed out of the driveway.

Edward chuffed. "Not really. They came in the kitchen and she wasn't wearing any fucking pants." He chuffed again, still seething. "And  _I'm_ the pervert." He rubbed his aching head absently.

The car was silent for a moment, though Bella did lean forward to rest her hand on his arm. He let her touch soothe him. "I don't like her."

"I thought you said you didn't meet her," Jasper countered.

"She's not like the others," Edward continued. "She's like him."

Again, silence engulfed the car, though this silence was a lot more heavy. James had a type. Like Jasper's mother, Maria, the women he tended to date with any degree of seriousness were meek - lacking any sort of confidence in themselves. Victoria was quite the opposite. There was nothing compliant about the way she held herself; nothing that would make Edward believe that James could control her. The idea of having two of James in the house was unpleasant to say the least.

There was nothing that could be done now, and so by the time they'd pulled up to the Forks High parking lot, they had let it go.

They went to the Cullens house that night and Edward's eyes were always on Jasper and Alice. Now he felt just plain stupid about not seeing it before. They would glance at each other, smiling soft, secret smiles. When she thought no one was looking, Alice would lean in and whisper something to him.

Edward was suspicious because, obviously, Alice was helping him hide their relationship, but for what reason? Surely he hadn't told her the extent of what their home life was like.

He was angry, again, because Jasper was keeping something from him. He didn't like it. There were very few things that Edward could trust in his life. Jasper was supposed to be one of them.

Finally, he acknowledged, he was jealous. From Emmett's room he watched Jasper and Alice run outside. They didn't know anyone was watching. They walked, quickly, side by side, until they got to the tree line, and then they clasped hands, walking out of sight. He was still glancing out the window when they came back a few minutes later. Alice wiped something off of Jasper's lips and they laughed, dropping their joined hands as they got closer to the house.

Edward caught Bella's eye and he could see that she had seen them too. She smiled, looking wistful, but happy for Jasper. The jealousy sparred with the nervousness in him, trying to decide what he felt more.

He was quiet on the ride home. He didn't speak until they were getting ready for bed. Jasper had that far away look in his eye. He was scowling again.

"Make her a playlist that reminds her of Mississippi," Edward muttered, not looking at Jasper as he untied his shoes.

Jasper's head snapped up. "What?"

Edward looked him in the eye. "You don't know what to get Alice for Valentine's Day. You've always spoken through music and it's a connection you share...and it's free. Make her a playlist that reminds her of Mississippi."

Looking guilty, Jasper dropped his eyes. "Edward...," he started, but didn't know to say.

"It's okay," Edward said softly. "I'm not going to tell you it doesn't make me uneasy. But I trust Alice, and I trust you. If you've figured out some way to make it work...I haven't seen you this happy...ever."

Jasper looked up again, trying to see if Edward was being serious. Edward looked back at him, holding his eyes so that his friend could see the truth there. The noticeable tension in Jasper's shoulders eased. "Thank you."

Edward just nodded and they both got in their beds. When the lights went out Jasper started talking...he told Edward everything he had been holding back. How it started. How Alice thought James was just strict about dating. What it was like to kiss a girl.

Before they drifted off to sleep, Jasper said into the darkness, "Edward...you could make it work you know."

Edward feigned sleep, because he didn't even know how to let himself hope.

***  
The doorbell rang and Edward furrowed his eyebrows.  _Who the fuck?_  Knowing he was the only one in the house, as Jasper and Bella were out back cleaning up the lawn, Edward put the dishes down and went to answer the front door.

Victoria stood out on the front stoop and Edward resisted the urge to slam the door in her face. "James isn't here right now."

She glared at him and walked into the house, purposefully bumping Edward to the side. "Hey!" Edward called after her. "Do you have some kind of waxy build up? James isn't here. He won't be home for hours."

"Look, how about you shut the fuck up and go get me some fucking tea," Victoria said, sitting on the couch. "Useless fucking brat," she muttered to herself, the words all sounding vaguely ridiculous in her babyish voice.

For a long moment, Edward simply stared at the back of her head, fuming. She had been ordering all three of them around like they were her servants. There was something to be said about never hitting a woman...and Edward had to remind himself every time he was in Victoria's presence what that something was. Finally deciding it wasn't worth the fight just to have to face James' wrath, Edward stormed into the kitchen to fetch her iced tea.

When he came back out into the living room Victoria was no where in sight. A quick look around the living room revealed the remnants of a line of coke with another lying untouched on the glass of the coffee table.  _Lovely,_ Edward thought. Even in this house, where what went on behind closed doors wasn't all white-picket fences, Brady Bunch shit, this was a little fucking surreal.

A noise from the bathroom caught his attention and he looked up just in time to see Victoria successfully pick the lock to James' drawer of pills. She grinned victoriously and plucked a bottle out at random. He watched, incredulous, as she poured the pills from the bottle into her coat pocket and refilled it with different pills from her second pocket. He set the tea down on the coffee table with a loud clunk. She looked up, and narrowed her eyes at him dangerously.

He was pissed. He was downright fucking livid. Anyone being in that room felt wrong after what James had done to Bella. It brought back every horrible memory he had of that afternoon - how helpless, scared and impotently furious he'd been as he'd watched James bring the belt down on Bella's bare flesh over and over again. He had thought the sound of the leather hitting her skin and her cries muffled against the couch cushion would finally snap the strings that held his sanity together. Edward couldn't remember when he had been more scared as when he'd held her afterward. She had been gasping and hysterical, and she couldn't breathe for so long that he had been terrified she would asphyxiate.

Yet here was Victoria, walking into that room and breaking into the drawer that Bella had only innocently stumbled upon. It could come back to one of them so easily...too easily. If James suspected that someone had tampered with the pills it would be one of them, and Bella most likely, that he came after. They all knew that truth meant virtually nothing when James had made up his mind that one of them was guilty.

Her eyes on him the whole time, Victoria replaced the tampered pill bottle and relocked the drawer using the bobby pin she had unlocked it with. She stood and sauntered toward him with that cold, hard, predatory look that should have had him shaking. Instead, he stood tall and glared at her, because for once he was determined not to be bowed and conquered - not by her. She was obviously a drug addict and a thief to a person she was at least pretending to care about.

"What the fuck are you looking at," she challenged.

He stared at her evenly, "I'm sure James would love to know you're stealing from him," he threatened.

Showing her likeness to James again, Victoria struck like a snake, grabbing his ear and using it to yank him toward her. Edward winced at her talons digging into his ear and his scalp, but he didn't stop glaring at her. "He's not going to know about it because you're not going to fucking tell him." Her child-like voice was an eerie backdrop against the pure evil that dripped from her every word, like venom from a snake bite. She tightened her hold on his ear and Edward hissed. "Will you."

"You're going to find out." Edward was amazed his voice was so even, but honestly he'd been in much more pain than she was inflicting. With his anger and the fact he knew damn well that his threat carried weight, Edward was able to control the pain and any fear he may have felt. Having any amount of power over a person like her, as limited as it was, was a high that kept the pain at bay. He glared at her and she glared back. It was a battle of the wills.

The sound of the backdoor opening broke off their staring contest. Victoria let him go and backed up several paces as Jasper and Bella came in from outside. Jasper stopped short when he rounded the corner to find Victoria there with Edward glowering at her. Bella ran into Jasper and then stiffened, her eyes going to the cocaine on the coffee table.

That broke Edward out of the tense moment. "I'll finish the dishes in a little bit. Come on," he gestured at Bella and Jasper, nodding toward the stairs.

As they all headed for the stairs, Edward looked back at Victoria. She was looking at him with eyes that were far more contemplative than made him comfortable.

***  
For the last week, there had been a table set up outside of the cafeteria at lunch time. Edward had ignored the table, having no interest in cheesy candy-grams with meaningless words on scraps of paper that had copious amounts of little pink hearts all over them.

He was late getting to lunch since he had had to speak to his English teacher after class. Bella had gone ahead of him, so he was alone when he passed the table that had a couple of other students milling around it.

It was the conversation hearts that caught his eye. Automatically he looked over the rest of the table. His lips quirked up in an involuntary smile when he saw the tiny heart shaped hard candies on the long, think plastic tubes that Bella had described as she fell asleep. They were in multiple colors. He thought about how much she liked blue raspberry flavored Jolly Ranchers and he found himself standing at the table.

"You buying a candy-gram, Masen?" said a rather surly but familiar voice.

Edward looked up. He hadn't noticed but manning the table was his former best friend Mike Newton. Edward grimaced, feeling self conscious. He didn't really have a plan. It wasn't like it was a big deal, he reasoned to himself. It wasn't like he was writing a love letter. He was just buying Bella some candy he knew she would like.

"It wasn't a difficult question," Mike taunted. Instantly, Edward was annoyed. He held his tongue, having more important things to think about. It wasn't as if he didn't deserve Mike's irritation. He had only repeated the popular rumor that was going around school at the time - that Edward's parents had been put away for murder - when Edward had punched him square in the face.

He pointed at the little candies. "I want," They were so small. "Three of them," he decided.

"$4.50," Mike said. Edward handed him a $5 bill. Mike gestured to the various slips of paper in front of him. "Choose three. Write. Your message will be delivered on Valentines Day."

"Thanks, I'll take them now." Edward reached for the candies. Mike quickly yanked them away. "What the fuck, Newton?"

"These are candy-grams, Masen." Mike was giving him that are-you-fucking-stupid look and Edward felt his annoyance click over into anger in a heart beat. "The idea is to have them delivered. On. Valentine's Day, tomorrow" he said deliberately, as if Edward was a child.

"I realize that, dick," Edward said between clenched teeth. "I want these  _now._  I paid for them. You don't even have to go through the trouble of delivering them. Just give them, the fuck, to me"

"That's not how it works," Mike insisted, keeping his hand with the bouquet of hard candy hearts as far away from Edward as possible.

Edward leaned over the table, oblivious to the eyes that were on them. "Make it work, Newton," he said threateningly.

With a mocking glare, Mike crossed his arms. "Look, Masen. This is all anonymous. You can send this candy-gram to your lover over there," Mike nodded to where Jasper had just stepped out of the cafeteria, "and no one will know. That's the point."

Something in Edward snapped then. Before he could even process what he was doing he had lunged across the table and grabbed Mike by his shirt. He yanked him over the table so they were face to face. "Listen, you little shit. You don't know one g'damn thing about me or my life. Shut the fuck up and give me the fucking candy I fucking paid for right now!"

"Fuck, Masen." Mike had gone pale and strained to get out of Edward's hands. "If you're going to be all psychotic about it take the fucking things." He thrust the candies at him.

Looking at the fear on Mike's face, Edward's anger began to drain. It was the same look he'd seen on Jasper and Bella's face when they thought James was going to hit them. It was the same look he'd most certainly had on his face so many times in the last two years. He let go of Mike quickly, as if he had been burned. He reached out his hand for the candies and Mike flinched ever so slightly. Edward felt vaguely ill, but he didn't know how to process his guilt and his anger at the same time. He just grabbed three of the candies at random and spun on his heel, anxious to get away from the staring eyes around him.

Jasper fell into step beside him, offering him silent support though he didn't know what the fuck was going on. Edward was almost back to the cafeteria when he heard Mike mutter something that sounded like, "Fucking psycho, just like his parents."

Jasper grabbed Edward's arm before Edward could spin back around. He fixed him with a steadying look before turning to glare at Mike. "You get a freebie, Newton, but I swear to god if I ever hear you say anything about his parents again I will kick your ass myself."

They both turned and headed into the cafeteria, Edward quickly putting away the candies so Bella didn't catch sight of them. "Are you okay?" Jasper asked.

"Yes. Thank you for stopping me," Edward said, taking a steadying breath. "You know - you probably just added fuel to the whole gay lovers thing."

Jasper laughed wryly. "Do you give a fuck what Mike Newton thinks of you?"

"No," Edward answered.

"Me either. I love you man, but it's not your pretty ass I'm looking for," Jasper quipped.

Edward scoffed. "Yea well, you're blond. Not at all my type anyway."

They sat back down at the table, laughing. Alice and Bella looked up at them, amused and confused. The boys just waved their concerns off.

Right before they left for school, Edward pretended he'd left something in his locker and darted back. Instead of going to his locker, he rerouted to Bella's. He spun the lock, knowing her combination already. He dug around in his backpack, looking for the three candies he'd yanked out of Mike's hand earlier, grinning when he saw that one of them was blue - just as he'd hoped. Smiling to himself, he put the two blood red hearts on top of her books and slammed the locker shut.

As he jogged back out of the school to Jasper's waiting car, Edward amused himself by imagining the look on Bella's face when she saw the candies. Would she assume immediately it was him? He imagined the puzzled expression on her face, and the way her eyebrows would furrow in confusion. He hoped she wouldn't be embarrassed.

If she guessed, he would give her the blue heart when she asked, he decided. If she didn't, he would leave it on her pillow while she slept. He liked the sentiment of that because he didn't need the excuse of the date to want to give her something nice.

The next day Edward woke up in a good mood. He should have known better than to think it would last.

One second before, Edward and Jasper had been laughing as they got ready for school. Then, slipping his backpack over one shoulder, Edward had opened the door to find James leaning in the doorway. He and Jasper both froze, the laughter dying on their lips. James was glaring at Edward. Like an animal caught in the eyes of a predator, Edward couldn't move. His mouth pressed into a thin line, trying to conceal his terror at the look in James' eyes. Frustration came right on the heals of the fear. Edward hated being scared. Not far behind frustration was anger. The anger that only burned harder because it was an impotent rage. He wracked his brain, trying to think of what he might have done to cause this, but he couldn't think of anything.

"Go to school, Jasper," James ordered, not looking at his son. His voice was low and steady. "Edward and I need to have a little chat."

Jasper looked back and forth between his father and his friend, nervousness clawing at his stomach. He tried to swallow his fear. "Dad, let him go to school."

Turning his gaze momentarily away from Edward, James narrowed his eyes at his son. "Are you going to argue with me, boy?"

Edward gasped, realizing belatedly that he had been holding his breath. Now that James' eyes weren't on him he could think a little better. "Go, Jasper. Get Bella, and go." His eyes had found Victoria where she stood in the hallway and he suddenly understood. He wanted Jasper and Bella away from this house before they could get caught in whatever trap she had set.

Jasper might have argued but just then Bella's door opened. She stepped into the hallway and froze, taking in the scene in front of her. Her eyes went wide. Jasper pushed past Edward and James in the doorway and put his hand on Bella's arm. "Come on."

Bella tried to look at Edward, but Edward was caught under James' malevolent glare again. She could see that the color had drained from his face. She took a step toward him but Jasper tugged her arm. "Come on, we have to go to class." Jasper caught Bella's eyes, his own eyes begging her to move. Tension seemed to fill the house, and Jasper's fight or flight reflex was kicking in. He wanted to help Edward, and he knew putting up a fight would only make the storm worse. Thankfully, Bella let him lead her downstairs and out the door.

Edward breathed a little easier knowing Jasper and Bella were safe for now, but James didn't let him feel relief very long. His hand came up, striking Edward in the middle of his chest like a lightning bolt and pushing him backward. Edward might have fallen straight onto his ass but James kept pushing until he was pressed up against the wall, James' hand pinning him by his chest. He gasped, the breath knocked out of him. His backpack fell to the floor with an ominous thud.

"Vic?" James called, and his voice was still steady. "Where did you see them?"

Victoria strode into the room and went to the nightstand by Edward's bed. Edward narrowed his eyes in confusion and anger. He didn't like her going through his things, but he had no clue what she was looking for. She rummaged through the bottom drawer until she pulled out a prescription bottle. Now Edward was really confused. He didn't use that drawer very often, but he knew damn well that he didn't have any medication in there.

James held his free hand out and Victoria stepped over, putting the bottle into his hand. He broke his glare with Edward long enough to read the label and shake the bottle. "There are only a few pills left in here, and this was filled yesterday, boy. How many did you take?"

"I didn't take anything," Edward said between clenched teeth.

"You're a fucking liar," James sneered.

"I'm not lying. I didn't even have them in here. I don't even know what they are." Edward tried to keep his voice steady, but a hint of desperation was creeping into his tone.

James shook his head, disgusted. "You can't even own up to something when you were caught red handed. Fucking pathetic little shit." In a move so fast Edward almost didn't comprehend what was happening, James spun him around so his face was pressed against the wall, and his left arm was wrenched behind his back. James twisted his arm and Edward had to clamp his mouth shut to keep from screaming. "How many of them did you take," James demanded.

"I didn't take any," Edward insisted, barely gritting the words out.

"Right," James scoffed. "You're fucking high. Your face is pale."

"That might be because some fucking asshole is twisting my arm," Edward snapped back, though the last part of it was strangled as James twisted harder.

James laughed, incredulous. "You're going to sass me now? You're stupider than I thought." He twisted again and this time Edward couldn't help but cry out. He felt like his bone was going to snap. "How many did you take?" James growled his voice loud in Edward's ear.

"None! I swear. Let me go," he pleaded, desperate to stop the pain that felt like James was driving spikes through his arm. He leaned his forehead against the wall, biting the inside of his cheek to stop his groans.

"You will tell me the truth," James said, twisting again. Edward's legs felt weak. If James hadn't been pressing him against the wall at the same time he had no doubt he would have fallen to his knees.

He slammed his free palm against the wall, trying to clear his thoughts. James twisted again and again Edward cried out. "How many, Edward?" James demanded.

"I don't know!" Edward shouted back, frustrated and just wanting James' hands off of him. He hated the whine in his voice and hated his weakness and hated James so badly in that moment. With ever rational and irrational thought he had he wished for some burst of super strength - some rush of adrenaline like you see in the movies that would have allowed him to fight back - knock James away from him and beat the life from him with his bare hands. "Whatever's not in the bottle okay? Just let go of me."

Surprisingly, James released his wrist almost instantly. Edward slid down the wall, panting and hugging his arm to his chest. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, but he felt two tears escape anyway.

"Don't move," James commanded, and Edward would have scoffed under other circumstances. Where the hell was he going to go? James and Victoria both left the room. He could have sworn he heard Victoria snicker.

Edward didn't even bother to move from where he was on the floor. He heard James come back into the room and he curled into a tighter ball, expecting James to come at his with his fists, or start kicking him. Instead, James crouched down by him, his phone pressed to one ear and the bottle of pills in the other.

"Mrs. Cope?" When James spoke his voice was gentle and concerned. "I just wanted to let you know that Edward isn't feeling very well today. I'm keeping him home." Edward leaned his head against the wall, stifling a whimper. His heartbeat sped. He knew when James was through with whatever it was he was going to do, he would truly not feel well enough for school. "Yes, I'll tell him. Thanks."

He hung up and shook the pill bottle in Edward's face. "If you weren't such a fucking moron, you'd know that it's easy to overdose on these pills. I could give a fuck less if you live or die, being the fucking worthless idiot you are, but you're not doing it in my house."

He looked over his shoulder as Victoria came back in, handing him another bottle. Edward blanched when he saw the label.

It was ipecac.

Ipecac was designed for one purpose that Edward knew of. It made whoever swallowed it throw up.

He couldn't help it. He tried to get up and get away, but James grabbed his arm before he could get far. He threw him down on his back, quickly straddling his chest, pinning Edward's good arm to his side.

"Get off me!" Edward yelled, struggling to escape James with little success.

"I'm trying to save your useless life you little bastard," James sneered, opening the bottle. "Hold his head," he said to Victoria. She captured Edward's head between her knees. "Open your mouth!" James demanded.

Edwards lips were pressed so tightly shut that they were white with the effort. With a roll of her eyes, Victoria pinched his nose shut, cutting off his air. Edward tried to toss his head to break her hold, but he couldn't move enough. His lungs burned with the need to breathe and he finally gasped. James was ready, pouring the liquid into Edward's mouth. With his other hand, he quickly forced Edward's jaw shut so he couldn't spit it out.

The ipecac was like sickeningly sweet, thick apple juice on his tongue. He wanted to gag just with the taste of it. "Swallow," James demanded. James' fingers dug painfully into his cheek while Victoria's long nails scratched his nose. Desperate to breathe, Edward swallowed convulsively, and choked on the liquid that went down the wrong tube.

James and Victoria both backed off of him as he choked and sputtered, pulling in ragged breaths. James grabbed him by the arm, yanking him to his feet and dragging him out of the room. He pushed him into the bathroom with the command to stay there until he had it all out of his system.

Victoria came back once the ipecac had a chance to take effect. He knew he had to look pathetic. He was slumped on the floor, propped up against the counter closest to the open toilet. His face was bone white, completely drained of color. Sweat made his hair damp. He was moaning as his stomach twisted painfully. She walked slowly over to Edward and he could see her smirk. She knelt sinuously at his side and though he groaned he didn't have the strength to pull away. She pressed her lips to his ear. "Don't fuck with me," she said.

And then she was gone.

It felt like hours before Edward thought he could move again. He picked himself up off the floor, feeling drained and shaky. His stomach hurt and his head pounded. He had barely enough strength left to rinse out his mouth before he stumbled into his room and fell down on the bed, falling asleep almost instantly.

When he woke it was almost two o'clock. The house was eerily silent. For once there was no sound anywhere - no rain pounding on the roof or breeze rustling the trees, just the static noise of a still house. Despite the fact he had slept for hours, Edward felt unbearably tired. He remembered getting the stomach flu when he was little and tried not to wish his mother was there, as she had been then, running her fingers through his hair and rubbing his back. He tried to conjure up the anger again, remembering Victoria's snicker and the look on her face as she knelt by his side. He felt nothing. He felt like less than father had taught him to stand up for himself and all it had ever accomplished was to show him again and again that he could be conquered and bowed. Defeated, he only had enough energy to move under the covers, trying to chase away the chill in the center of his body with the warmth of the blankets.

When he woke it was to gentle fingers in his hair. He opened his eyes slowly, finding Bella there instead of his mother. She was laying on her side, one hand beneath her cheek while the other smoothed his unruly hair. When his eyes opened all the way she smiled, knowing he didn't want to see any type of pity. She was honestly glad he was awake, having been terrified for him all day. They didn't speak, but Edward brought his hand out from under the blanket, wincing. That Bella did frown at. In the afternoon light, Edward could clearly see the skin of his wrist was bruised where James had gripped him. It was swollen, and felt sprained. Edward pushed the pain aside, and as Bella moved her hand from his hair to touch his wrist, he wound their fingers together instead.

They lay in silence, just staring into each others eyes; Edward finding the comfort and love he'd ached for and borrowing Bella's strength to combat the numbness that had settled over him.

When Jasper came in the room with chicken noodle soup, Edward felt strong enough to joke and feign fear over Jasper's cooking skills. Jasper had rolled his eyes and admitted that he had burned the grilled cheese he'd started to make, but no one could fuck up Cambell's from a can.

A quiet night with his best friends was all Edward needed to push back the wallowing feeling of defeat, but as the numbness lifted, it brought back not only his anger, but also his frustration. He was sure now, more than ever, that he couldn't afford to let himself feel more than he already did for Bella...not now, when Victoria had it out for him and he was sure she wouldn't hesitate to use Bella to hurt him. Edward knew he would gladly take a thousand more days like today if it meant he could spare Bella one.

As they ate and talked, Edward would look up, and find her looking back at him. Their eyes said everything to each other that they couldn't say aloud.

Regardless of his decision, Edward still sneaked into Bella's room that night. He saw the two candy hearts he had left in her locker the day previous on her nightstand. He smiled at her sleeping form and added the third -the blue one, knowing she would know it was him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. Two steps forward, one step back.
> 
> To my gal JadedandBoring who betaed for me while I slept. So awesome to wake up to a chapter I can actually release in the daytime. LOL. Her stories The Kübler Ross Model and Tie Me Here in Time pwn me. She's made of amazing.
> 
> And to my girls, Dizzygrl28 and CellaCullen. We wrote an o/s together (humor – I know, who'd have thunk I was capable!) that was featured on PPSS which was awesome. You can find it in my profile.
> 
> I believe we have 4 more chapters and an epilogue left. That could always change though. Let me know what you're thinking!


	7. Simon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: There's a lot of sour to go with the sweet in this chapter. Hopefully, the sweet is what lingers.
> 
> Disclaimer: These beautiful creations belong to Stephenie Meyer. Only the story line belongs to me.

_**"You don't know why they had to go this far  
traded your worth for these scars  
for your only company.  
Don't believe the lies that they've told to you.  
Not one word was true. You're alright"** _

_**-Simon, Lifehouse** _

In March, Bella's nightmares became worse, as they had last year. March marked the anniversary of Charlie Swan's death.

The night before the anniversary of the day Charlie was killed Edward didn't even bother trying to sleep. He waited until Jasper's breathing evened out before carefully slipping out of bed and out of his room. In the hallway, he listened carefully, but the light underneath James' door was off and he could hear his foster father's occasional snore.

Erring on the side of caution, he tiptoed to Bella's door and knocked lightly. A moment later he heard her muffled, "Come in."

She was sitting on her bed, listlessly kicking her feet against the side. She didn't look up when he entered. Edward closed the door behind him and went to sit beside her.

When he didn't say anything she asked, "What do you want?" her voice slightly flat but not unkind. She still hadn't looked at him.

"I didn't think that you'd have an easy time sleeping tonight," he said quietly.

She glanced up, ready to deny it so he would get some sleep, but then she saw the look on his face. His eyes were full of tenderness and concern. She looked back down again, biting her lip to keep her tears at bay. She finally nodded slightly. "If I sleep now, I'll have nightmares," she conceded.

She glanced up at him again, attempting a smile, but it looked more like a grimace. "You should go to sleep, though. It's a school night."

Edward rolled his eyes and proffered her one of the earbuds of his headphones. They had a brief conversation with their eyes - hers telling him he should be in bed and his staring back with a look that clearly said,  _unlikely, Bella -_ before she relented and popped the earbud in her ear.

He spent the next hour or so dissecting the drummers of a number of metal bands he enjoyed. She knew he chose metal when he needed something that could drown out every other thought in his head; it was hard, fast and complex, typically speaking, but Bella found herself lost in this separate world he heard in music. When she listened, as he spoke, she could hear the differing beats and actually understood the intricacies of way the musicians played. Even if she didn't always enjoy the harshness of the sounds, when he pointed out how all the pieces fit together she could appreciate it as art.

She was sufficiently distracted enough to fall asleep. Edward stayed a little longer, watching her peaceful face to make sure the nightmares didn't claim her.

The next day, at school, everyone was in on the distract Bella plan, even Emmett. The year previous, Bella had slipped into a depression that had clouded her mind for a good week after the anniversary of Charlie's death. Edward and Jasper had discussed it weeks ago and had gotten Alice and Emmett to help them. Whoever was nearest to the class she was in would walk her to the next one, making idle conversation and not really giving her time to retreat into herself. During lunch, Alice and Jasper were careful not to drift off into their own little word, as they so often did. Instead they kept the conversation going steadily. The vaguely irritated look on her face told them that Bella was well aware of what they were doing - but even her ire was better than depression.

Still, as the day wore on, every time Edward saw Bella she looked a little more withdrawn. At the end of the day she wasn't looking at anyone and she would space out when they tried to talk to her.

After school they piled into Jasper's car to go to the Cullen's, or so Bella thought. Edward saw her sigh slightly. He knew that she wanted to be alone, but she had agreed to go because she didn't want to worry the others.

When they missed the turn off to the Cullen's she didn't notice, even though she was staring out the window. Edward and Jasper exchanged a worried glance in the rear-view mirror. It was only when they had pulled into the cemetery that Bella turned away from the window with a confused expression. Edward tried not to grimace as he watched her face. He still wasn't sure this was a good idea, even though it had been him who had suggested it in the first place.

"What are we doing here?" Bella asked, sounding disoriented.

"You're introducing me to your father," Alice said from the front seat.

It was the perfect answer. Bella wouldn't argue with Alice, if only out of politeness.

"Do you know where he is?" Jasper asked softly.

Bella nodded tightly, obviously not trusting herself to speak. She pointed to a fork in the road at the left. They drove slowly up the aisle and then Bella pointed again. Jasper followed her directions until she whispered a, "Here," that he could barely hear.

Alice got out of the car first, opening Bella's door and pulling her out gently. She did not drop her hand as they all waited. Taking a trembling breath, Bella started forward. Edward could tell she was squeezing the shit out of Alice's hand, but Alice didn't complain or pull away. Finally, Bella stopped at a flat headstone. It was simple; made of a flecked, deep blue stone with a tranquil river etched on one side. The marker simply said Charles Swan ~ Beloved Father with his date of birth and date of death.

Bella knelt in front of his grave and started to tear at the weeds that were overgrowing, obscuring the stone somewhat. She was biting her lip hard. Alice sank down beside her, helping Bella wordlessly for a moment before she asked, "Will you tell me about him?"

She looked up at Alice with a struck expression, and Edward's heart nearly broke. She opened her mouth, as if to speak, but nothing came out.

Edward started speaking almost before he knew what he was about to say. "When I was in my first foster home, and I'd gotten into my first fight, my foster parents called the police. They were pissed and they wanted to scare me. It was Charlie who came. He never treated me like a delinquent, or looked down at me or anything like that. In fact he was the only one who was nice to me about everything. He told me that he understood that I felt angry and abandoned." Edward smiled at the memory and at Bella. "You know, adults always try to tell you they understand when they don't...but him I believed."

"Yea," Bella whispered. She cleared her throat and looked back at him with watery eyes. "Charlie always said exactly what he meant. There was never a question of what he wanted."

Edward and Jasper heard the  _Unlike James_ that she didn't say aloud.

Surprisingly, Bella began talking, answering Alice's gentle questions. Edward longed to go to her and wrap her in his arms to soothe away her pain, but Jasper tugged on his jacket, gesturing that they should walk and give the girls a little privacy.

Reluctantly, Edward followed.

Cemeteries were fascinating to Edward. He did the math on the dates he passed, wondering about the lives cut long or short of the people beneath his feet and six feet of dirt. He wondered at what caused death too early on the graves whose dates were too short, like Charlie's. He rolled over the words  _Beloved Father_ and how those words told the story that Bella had been everything in his life, if that was how he was remembered.

"Someone will put 'Beloved Father' on  _his_ grave over my dead body," Jasper muttered darkly.

Alice came running up then and, because there was no one else around, she let herself brush right up against Jasper as she put something in his hand. "Buy a bouquet of flowers. The prettiest ones you can find, okay?" Jasper nodded and leaned down to kiss her as she stood up on her tip toes. Their kiss was brief and chaste, but sweet.

Edward tried not to feel jealous that, even though the cemetery was deserted, Jasper could kiss Alice outside, under the brief snippets of sunshine that peaked out between the clouds. He tried to shake off the envious feelings as he and Jasper set off toward the lobby near the front gates.

"You know, I don't even think I'd be able to find my mom's grave," Jasper mumbled distractedly.

"Maybe..." Edward began hesitantly, wanting to comfort his friend but not liking the words he was about to say, "Maybe you'll go to college closer to home."

Jasper shook his head as they walked. "I thought Alice might want to be closer to her family, but she and I discussed it. I'd rather be close to you and Bella."

"You and she discussed it," Edward repeated. His smile quirked, but Jasper could see the sadness in his eyes. They were a real couple, planning a future together...at least as far as what college they wanted to get into.

Knowing that Edward would likely brush him off as usual, Jasper almost didn't say what he was thinking. "You could have-" Edward's glare cut him off. Jasper sighed. "You can make it work, Edward. Alice and I-,"

"Jazz, dammit," Edward growled, frustrated. "It's not the same and you know it. Do you know what would happen if James found out about you and Alice? He'd give you hell about it, sure. But he can't touch her. He couldn't say a blessed word to her. Imagine that...if he found out that you cared about her the way you do he could use it against her, use that to make her cry, and you'd have to watch it happen. Because of you. Could you live with that?" Edward ran his hands through his hair, agitated now. "If it was just me, it'd be different."

"Okay," Jasper acquiesced, holding his hands up in surrender. "I get it. I do. I just...want you to be happy. That's all."

Edward gave a short, somewhat bitter laugh, but said nothing. They walked to the lobby of the cemetery and purchased a bouquet of flowers for Charlie's grave.

"Do you remember last week?" Jasper asked quietly, breaking the tense silence between them.

Edward didn't have to ask for clarification. Ever since Victoria had planted pills in Edward's drawer a couple of months previous, James had habitually torn apart both the boy's room and Bella's - emptying every drawer in the room onto the floor, looking for missing pill bottles. The search always proved fruitless - as Edward knew it would since it was Victoria taking the pills, and he would take his anger out on one or all of them. Last week it had been Jasper, but as James had raged, his words, designed shred at Jasper's mind as his fists bruised his body, did not have their typical effect. Jasper had taken the beating stoically, glaring at his father with hard, angry eyes even as James had berated him.

"I told Alice once that I didn't feel like a real man," Jasper continued, knowing Edward was on the same page. "She told me that I was wrong. And she told me why. It was her words in my head that gave me the strength to get through that without feeling … destroyed."

Edward said nothing, his mind going over scenarios.

Seeing the stubborn set of his friend's face, Jasper sighed. "You're over thinking it. You're both feeling what you feel regardless. Give in and let yourself say it out loud. There are so many things we have to hide. This doesn't have to be one of them – at least, not between you two. You can't stop him from tearing her down, but … if he's going to do it anyway, you can give her this additional strength. Words are a powerful thing, Edward. That goes both ways."

Months passed. Victoria was at the house more often than anyone else had been in the nearly five years that Jasper had lived with James. Edward and Jasper amused themselves by hypothesizing at what the draw was. She was so different from the others – wild and feral where they had been tame and docile. Jasper supposed that James already lorded over the three of them. Edward quipped that maybe Victoria dominated  _him_. They both shuddered at the mental image.

In addition to the joy she always brought to their life, she often brought over her brother. Felix made them all nervous. He was huge – taller and broader than even Emmett. He was quieter than Victoria but the unadulterated malice that she spoke and walked with was present in his eyes.

And Edward hated the way he looked at Bella. He leered at her, his eyes raking over her small form in a way that made Edward furious. He never said anything, but Edward always felt like stepping between his eyes and Bella. He did, as frequently as possible.

As the months passed, Jasper's words continued to echo in Edward's brain. He found himself thinking,  _What's the worst that could possibly happen?_

James already used the fact that the three teenagers cared for each other against them. He'd tried, more than once to pit the boys against each other, telling one that the other had snitched and other similar things to try and make them feel betrayed by the one relationship they had that they could trust. It had never worked, much to James' frustration. There was a reason that he never held back from hitting one of them in front of the others, and why he often waited to punish Bella when he knew they were in their room and could hear every strike of his belt.

Was there anything else he could do if he knew that Edward liked Bella more as a girlfriend than a sister?

The fact that Edward did not really want to find out the answer to that question kept his mouth closed.

It didn't make the jealousy any easier to deal with, though.

One day in early May, they were at the Cullen's house and he was watching Jasper and Alice out of the corner of his eye. They were throwing secret smiles at each other, like they did frequently at lunch, and he didn't miss that their hands brushed "accidentally" when they both reached for the ketchup at the same time.

Again.

"Edward, dear," Esme's voice interrupted Edward's envious thoughts. He cleared the jealousy from his face and turned to her. "Do you think you'd play for me?" she requested.

A few minutes later, Jasper and Alice had disappeared to some quiet corner of the house and Edward sat at the piano, his fingers on the keys. His fingers buzzed with a strange energy, holding a tune he could not quite make out. They wanted to play, to dance along the piano and string together notes that told a story of intense feelings he didn't know how to deal with, an ache he could not soothe and the beautiful girl who had no idea how beautiful she was in every conceivable way. He searched for the right song, but as his brain skipped through the musical library of songs he knew, none of them fit the story he wanted to tell.

Bella watched him from her position on the couch, her head tilted in concern as she watched his consternation. His hands moved while his brain jumped restlessly. They played a profusion of notes as complex and mesmerizing as the girl his eyes now beheld. Her eyes went wide. His were a mirror. Suddenly, he was playing everything he felt. The melody was at once tranquil and slightly melancholy - because she was his peace in their chaotic life, and yet he wanted more for her. His fingers played with the tender emotion that welled in him - caressing the keys rather than pounding them forcefully.

He smiled as the notes built, telling a tale of dreams, wishes and hopes - because he would take her away to another world and keep her safe forever if he only had the power.

But there was, as always, how this story ended. The melancholy strain that had followed the take throughout became louder and more insistent. While it was gentle, he had no choice but to let it claim the end of the song. It reminded him of holding her at night and how they could never escape the sleep that would force them apart - out of each other's arms until the next nightmare hit. The last note was exactly how he felt as he slipped out of her bed and out of her room.

It was a lullaby.

Edward was in unusually high spirits.

It was late June. School had let out for the summer and he was being driven home after a visit with his parents. He was damn close to happy.

First, James was not the driver of the car that now carried him back toward Forks. A few weeks ago, Esme and Carlisle had invited James over for dinner. It had been extremely uncomfortable, since Jasper, Edward and Bella had all hated the idea of having James' mere presence tainting the home that was their only refuge. The only upside to the horribly awkward evening had come when Carlisle told James about an extra shift he could pick up. Always eager for overtime, James had been displeased to remember that he had an obligation to take Edward to Seattle for his monthly visit the same day he would have been needed. All three teenagers had cast nervous glances at each other, knowing that James could take out his displeasure at losing the opportunity out on Edward when they got home.

Esme had spoken up then, offering to drive him. Because she often volunteered with the foster family agency, she had all the necessary background checks and finger printing she needed. It was three weeks later, and it was Esme who was driving him back from his visit, not James.

Second, where James, if he bothered to speak to Edward at all, was typically surly - making snide comments about Edward's parents and what a waste of his life this particular chore was - Esme had been sweet. She seemed to genuinely like Elizabeth Masen and had asked Edward gentle questions about his parents. Slowly, he had opened up to her, and their conversation on the drive home was surprisingly easy.

Third, Edward's mother had told Esme a story that made him both wistful and hopeful. It had made him smile and made him eager to get home to see Bella.

Fourth, it was Edward's birthday. Esme had surprised him as soon as he got in the car with a gift she said was from all of the Cullen's. It was a beautiful, leather-bound journal; with the left hand pages blank and the right hand pages filled with music bars. He had spent the drive up meticulously mapping out each note of the composition he'd composed in his head for Bella as Esme had made small talk, glancing at him with soft, motherly smiles.

The icing on the proverbial birthday cake was that James had planned on going straight from work to do something with Victoria - meaning the three of them would have the house to themselves.

His small smile fell ever so slightly when Esme rounded the corner onto his street.

Jasper's car wasn't there. James' wasn't either, but the fact Jasper wasn't where he said he was going to be always made Edward nervous. He murmured a good bye and a thank you to Esme and hurried to the door as fast as he could without giving away his anxiety to the woman in the car.

When he got inside, Edward immediately began looking around, trying to find anything out of place. A noise from the kitchen caught his attention. He walked over warily.

The kitchen was more of a mess than he was used to seeing it. There were bowls everywhere and...ingredients. Flour. Eggs. Sugar. And Bella stood with her back to him, humming happily to the music that must have been filtering in through her headphones. She was mixing something in a large, glass bowl.

He crossed the kitchen, curious as to what she was doing and why she was home alone.

He tapped on her shoulder as he walked up to her and she screamed, her hand knocking over a glass that sat on the counter as she raised her hands to her mouth. Edward snatched the glass out of the air before it could fall to the ground. Recovering quickly, Bella fumbled for her iPod, yanking the earbuds out of her ears. "You scared me!" she admonished.

He grinned in apology and gestured around them. "What are you doing?"

Her cheeks flamed a beautiful pinkish tint, and she ducked her head. "I'm baking you a cake."

"Why?" he asked automatically, though the answer was obvious.

She rolled her eyes at him. "Jasper took off with Alice since James isn't going to be home, and Carlisle is off in Seattle with Emmett looking for apartments. I thought that … maybe we could watch a movie, or something. And have some cake."

She bit her lip as she looked up at him from under her eyelashes, and Edward was momentarily stunned. She read his silence as dubiousness. "I mean, I know it's boring but-,"

"It's not boring," he said quickly. "It's great. Especially if it's with you."

She smiled a wide, but shy smile as she reached for the bowl again.

Everything happened as if in slow motion. Bella slipped, skidding forward a few inches on unsteady feet. She threw her arms up to balance herself out, simultaneously launching the mixing bowl into the air.

Edward could have caught the mixing bowl, but he couldn't catch it and Bella. His arms darted out, grabbing her and pulling her hard against him. They watched in horror as the bowl fell to the unforgiving kitchen floor, shattering before their eyes.

There was silence in the house for a few seconds as they both stared at the mess on the floor. Then Bella's hands dug painfully into his arms and he could feel her start trembling against him. "Oh, no," she groaned, so softly he thought he might have imagined it. She released her death grip on him and fell to her knees on the floor, picking up shards of glass. "I'll clean it up. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," she said, frantic.

Edward quickly sank down beside her, grabbing her hands. "Bella, stop. You're going to cut yourself."

The glass she had collected clattered to the floor again and he could see her hands were shaking. "It was an accident," she told him.

"It's okay. We're going to clean it up, okay?" He tilted his head so he could catch her eyes. For a moment they didn't focus, dilated as they were in the panic that had come over her. He clasped her hands in his own carefully, making sure there were no remnants of glass that could cut her skin. "It's okay," he repeated softly.

She took an unsteady breath and then frowned, her lower lip pouting out adorably. "Oh, your cake! I'm sorry."

He laughed quietly. "It's okay, Bella. It's the thought that counts," he replied, smiling at her so she would know that he wasn't even remotely upset. He could see she was disappointed, but it wasn't the end of the world.

No sooner than he had gotten her to calm down and they'd started to clean the mess together then they heard the unmistakable sound of a car pulling into the driveway. It didn't sound like Jasper's clunker.

For a split second, Bella and Edward looked at each other. He could see the naked fear in her eyes return, stronger than before. Her breath started to come in quick, staccato pulls.

 _No,_ he thought, his mouth setting in a determined line. He wasn't going to let James make a liar out of him. He had told her that it would be okay - that she would be okay. This time, today, he would protect her. He grabbed her hand, clasping it tightly as he pulled her with him to her feet. "I need you to do something for me," he said urgently as he pulled her over to the hall closet. He opened the door. "Get in here, and stay quiet, okay?"

That snapped Bella out of her panic. "What? Edward, no," she protested, her arms coming up to his shoulders so she could try and push passed him.

With his hands on her arms he pushed her into the closet even as she struggled against him. "Bella, please. Please do this." He heard the car stop and knew they didn't have a lot of time. She continued to protest even as he backed her further into the closet. He closed the door on her just as the front door came open. Thankfully, Bella was smart enough to know to say silent.

Edward had skittered away from the closet door as James entered, Victoria trailing in after him. His sharp eyes honed in on Edward almost instantly. The easy smile he wore for Victoria turned into a scowl. "You're not out wherever your little girlfriend is?" James taunted, and for a split second Edward thought he was talking about Bella. Then he realized that he would have noticed that Jasper's car wasn't there.

"He and Bella went to pick up a few things," Edward answered vaguely.

James snickered at the fact Edward hadn't denied the girlfriend reference. Then his eyes seemed to narrow, looking him up and down. Edward's heart started to pound erratically and his stomach twisted. He knew there was cake batter splattered on his clothes. James strode forward quickly, shoving Edward to the side as he and Victoria entered the kitchen. Edward groaned softly to himself before following them in, knowing there was no point in delaying the inevitable.

James was surveying the chaos with a livid, dangerous expression. He turned, and Edward was chilled by the coldness of his glare.

"You. Little. Shit." James growled, advancing on Edward with narrowed eyes. As he stalked forward, Edward unconsciously backed up. He didn't even realize he was doing it until his back came in contact with the chairs at the kitchen table.

"I was cleaning it up. I didn't do it on purpose," Edward said quickly, knowing full well that his words were futile. His heart beat out a frantic rhythm in his chest. Fight. Run. Fight. Run. Neither was a viable option, he knew. He settled for holding his ground and trying not to cower.

"Do I look stupid to you?" James shouted. Even if Edward had wanted to reply he couldn't. In the next instant James had shoved him, sending him flying back into the table. He caught most of the blow on his side before falling to the ground, bringing one of the chairs with him. He cursed under his breath, trying to push himself up but before he could, James kicked him viciously, sending him sprawling onto his back. Edward sucked in a sharp breath, swallowing the moan that threatened to escape. "You think I haven't noticed, asshole? Every time you go visit your parents lately you start acting out." He kicked the boy again in the side this time. "I'm not going to put up with this, do you get that?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Edward shouted back between clenched teeth.

James leaned forward, so he was in Edward's face as he lay on the floor, breathing hard. "Playing stupid, just like your mother."

Edward's eyes flashed up to meet his foster-father's ice cold glare. His own eyes narrowed, not understanding what James was getting at, but very sure that he didn't want James even thinking about his mother, let alone talking about her. The ever-present anger that tainted most of his existence roiled like a snake hissing. He heard a snicker and his eyes darted over to where Victoria stood, smirking smugly as she watched. The snake inside of him tensed to spring.

"Felix went to school with your mother and father, you know," James continued and Edward looked back at him. "He said that your mother was a vapid little whore who played stupid so she could fuck around with half the boys in school." James chuffed, his lips quirking into a sneer as he leaned in closer. "He said your mother gave great head," he taunted.

With an animalistic cry that was all fury and hate, Edward launched himself off the ground before he could think his actions through. James stood but was thrown off balance as Edward barreled into him. He stumbled backward into the counter, hissing as the granite dug into his back. Edward's fist connected with James' face. James' head snapped back. Victoria gasped. Edward froze. James straightened his head back up, his hand immediately going to his nose. He brought his hand away, looking at the blood that stained his fingers incredulously.

Wide-eyed, Edward started to back away from his foster father. His stomach rolled and his heart was in his throat, beating painfully fast. James looked from the blood on his fingers over to Edward. He scoffed first. Then he laughed maniacally, making the sound somehow sinister. He took a slow step in Edward's direction, his eyes narrowing to slits. Edward took another step backward, flexing his aching knuckles. The fury that still bubbled in him, like angry lava rumbling and ready to erupt, wanted nothing more than to strike again, because the sight of James' head snapping back with the force of his fist had felt good. Too good. He was disgusted with himself. But more than that, he was fucking terrified because he had no doubt that James would make him pay for the blood he'd drawn tenfold.

James was still stalking toward him. Edward had run out of room, his back hitting the kitchen counter. Then James struck.

A punch to his solar plexus drove all the air from Edward's lungs, making him gasp and causing the contents of his stomach to churn sickeningly. James shoved him hard to the side, knocking him into the opposite counter. Edward's knees buckled as he flew forward and he crumbled to the ground, landing amidst the mess of glass and cake mix. The pain of the jagged glass scratching his arm was nothing to the burning in his chest. He pulled in air in ragged gasps, shaking his head to clear the spots that blurred his vision.

"Get up!" James demanded, looming over him with clenched fists. When Edward did not immediately comply, James kicked him again. "You think you're tough? Get. Up." Edward tried to get to his feet, but as soon as he had pushed himself into a sitting position, James kicked him again, hitting his ribs. Automatically, Edward recoiled, already having already suffered too many blows to his side to stay still. He curled inward slightly, moving his legs closer to his chest. As he did, he felt another shard of glass digging into his leg, right above his knee. He let out a strangled cry as the glass cut further into his skin with James' next strike.

"Look Vic, I think the baby's going to cry," James said cruelly, leaning over Edward and kicking him again. "Get up! You think you can take me then prove it."

Several times James commanded Edward to stand and face him, and each time when Edward would try to get up, James would kick him back to the ground. Edward was breathing hard, frustrated, angry and unable to do anything about it. He could feel the tears welling in his eyes but he was determined not to give James the satisfaction of seeing him cry.

It was hard, but Edward stayed mostly silent under James' assault. He thought about Bella, knowing she was trapped in the closet, listening to everything and probably crying enough for the both of them. He didn't want her to come flying out to try and protect him like she had with Jasper before Christmas.

As he continued to kick him viciously, James berated him as a coward, and baby, a wuss. Edward withstood that easily, but when James turned his verbal battering toward his mother, something in Edward snapped. His fury was overridden by a thick despair that clouded his thoughts. James berated his mother as a whore again and Edward knew he couldn't shut him up. At least, at the very least, when it was Jasper or Bella that James was attacking he could comfort them afterward; tell them James was an asshole and tell them jokes until they smiled again. It wasn't rational, but it was how Edward gave meaning to the hell that was his life. His mother not being physically there for him to defend made him miss her all the more.

That was that line of thinking that Edward tried to avoid at all cost. He hid the side of him that was a 16 year old boy who desperately missed his mother's tender voice and her consistent love.

And, it was that line of thinking that finally broke him. With his head curled against his arm he started to weep, and once he started he couldn't stop.

Mercifully, his tears seemed to satisfy James. His foster-father snickered, calling him pathetic, and gave him one last, hard kick to his injured leg before walking away with Victoria.

Edward hardly noticed that they weren't there, except that he realized James wasn't hurting him anymore. As the haze that had settled around him lifted, he became more aware of the particular pains in his body. Avoiding the glass littered around him as best he could, he pushed himself into a sitting position, grimacing at the radiating discomfort in his torso and his side as he moved. A sharp, stabbing sensation made him remember the shard of glass digging painfully into his leg. He leaned against the counter, shutting his eyes tightly against the tears that continued to fall relentlessly. Moving stiffly, his hands found the shard of glass, yanked it out with a perfunctory, robotic motion, and pressed his hands against the wound, trying to stave the blood flow.

The chaotic, intense stream of emotions raged in him with the strength of the worst thunderstorm imaginable. Grief hit him like lightning - all white hot heat and a pain that stabbed his psyche like a tree being carved with electricity in a split second. The invisible weight on his chest was different from the deep ache James' shoe had produced, was no less physical - overwhelming him like a torrential downpour and making it hard to breathe or even see. Loathing rolled through him like black storm clouds - not just for James and Victoria, but for himself; for his own stupidity and weakness. He should not have let James provoke him like that. He should not have lost his temper. He should be able to stop crying.

He thought of Bella again - still stuck in the closet while James and Victoria moved elsewhere in the house. He knew she had heard everything. He knew that she was scared and it was partially his fault.

It was a very different kind of pain when it radiated from the inside out. Wounds of the body were explicable - touchable. The pain that quickly devoured everything else was not something he could see. It went deeper than bruised skin and bones. It made him writhe because he wanted it out of him with a desperation he couldn't have ever explained. It made it harder to breathe and think and quiet these fucking tears that wouldn't stop leaking from his eyes.

In his agitation, Edward didn't realize what he was doing until he had thrown his head back against the cabinet. The pain that radiated through his skull at the spot of impact briefly cut through the agonizing ache at his core. It felt so much better that he did it again - the seconds of respite he got feeling like the only thing that kept him from going out of his mind and out of his skin. He did it again, harder this time, welcoming the physical pain.

He almost didn't register Bella's voice crying out to him. "Edward,  _stop,_ " she said urgently.

Sniffling pathetically, he opened his eyes to find her tear streaked face only inches from his. "Bella," he said, his voice raspy and small, "He'll catch you, you gotta-,"

"They left," Bella interrupted. She used her foot to clear the space beside him of glass and sat down carefully, her back against the cabinet. He hated being this broken in front of her and, paradoxically, it only made him cry harder. He leaned forward, laying his head on her shoulder as her arms wrapped around him. He wished he could hold her to him, but his hands were still against the wound on his leg.

It was a long time before both of their tears were quieted. Edward lifted his head from her shoulder, leaning his forehead against hers. He wanted to say he was sorry, but he wasn't. There was a strange sort of peace that filtered down on him then. His body ached terribly from the physical wounds but the storm inside him had quieted. His tears, once Bella had been there to hold him as he had held her so many times, had been cathartic. The ever-present invisible weight on his chest was there but, for once, it felt bearable.

"I'm sorry," she said, stroking his cheek, drying the wetness there.

He crinkled his eyebrows, confused. "What in the fuck could you possibly have to be sorry for?"

Her sad eyes searched his. "I wish I could be braver, like you. If I hadn't freaked out-," she started, but he interrupted.

"Stop," he commanded softly. "You don't see yourself very clearly, you know? You're very brave." He reached out and stroked her cheek tentatively, with the back of his hand so he wouldn't get blood on her beautiful face. Bella sucked in a breath, trying not to feel as affected as she was. He sniffled, and smiled. "You always have been."

She furrowed her eyebrows, confused at the nostalgic and tender look on his face. She held up one finger, telling him to wait and then darted up stairs. She came back only a minute or so later with clean towels, bandages and a bottle of peroxide. Edward tried not to groan. Bella looked at him apologetically as she wet one of the towels with warm water and knelt at his side again.

Bella pulled his arm toward her, carefully, inspecting the scrapes there. They weren't very deep but his arm was streaked with the blood that had run from the three or four minor cuts. She bit her lip as she started to clean the blood off his arm. He remembered belatedly that blood made Bella vaguely ill and hurried to distract her. "You were always braver than I am, Bella."

She gave him a disbelieving look as her small fingers worked over his skin. He gave her a small smile. "When we were in second grade, I remember that we were out on the playground. There were about three third graders gathered around you. I remember I wanted to go over, but I was scared because they were all bigger than me. But then I saw you stand up on your tip toes and get right in their faces to tell them they weren't nice." He tittered a little at the memory.

Bella looked up again from her work. When she saw the look in his eyes her heart stuttered. Even bloodshot and raw from his tears, the adoration in his eyes was unmistakable. She sucked in a deep breath, not understanding the depth of the emotion she saw amidst the stunning green. He had always looked on her with tenderness and affection, but Bella had assumed that it was similar to the way Jasper looked at her - like a little sister who he wanted to protect. Occasionally, she thought she saw something more, but one or both of them would always look away before the moment got too intense.

The odd, confusing and yet tingling tension was broken only slightly when Bella started to clean the cuts on his arm with peroxide. "Sorry," she mumbled as he hissed at the burning sensation. She pursed her lips, blowing softly on the stinging cuts, and he was soothed.

The look in his eyes was both soft and conflicted. The tension between them was almost a physical thing, and Bella had to stand, confused as to what she wanted. She wanted to take care of him, but she also wanted to do other things that she shouldn't be thinking about now. She busied herself instead with wetting two more clean towels with warm water. She moved his bloody hands away from his wound, pressing the towel there firmly. She returned one of his hands to hold the towel in place, but brought the other closer to her as she sat beside him again.

"What else do you remember about me? About before?" Bella asked quietly, cleaning each of his fingers one by one and hoping to distract both of them from the strange tension in the room. She liked the thought that she might have been a fearless child. Then again, she mused inwardly, when she was a child, she hadn't had any concept that there was anything in the world to fear. Her father was a police officer. She thought he would always be around to protect her.

"Do you remember your first kiss?" he questioned quietly.

Bella's head shot up. "What are you talking about? I've never kissed anyone."

He looked down; strangely shy and somewhat entranced by the way she held his hand in one of hers while the other wiped the blood away. "You were four. It was my fifth birthday party, and you were invited. Everyone was playing tag and I think Tyler Crowley ran into me too hard. I fell down and I was crying. You came up to me and you kissed me right on the lips and you said 'all better'! I was so surprised that I stopped crying instantly."

"You remember?" she asked, blushing and wishing she could remember too.

"Well...no," he admitted. "My mom just told that story a lot. She still does...actually." He stopped her hand's ministrations by wrapping his fingers around hers. He heard her breath catch and she looked up at him slowly, her expression uncertain but warm, her eyes deep with whatever emotion was crackling the air between them. "She told Esme about it today," he finished.

They stared at each other for long moments, hearts beating too quickly and eyes searching for something neither of them could quite figure out. Then, suddenly, Bella leaned forward and pressed a quick, childlike smack against his lips. "All better," she murmured as she backed away.

He released her hand so he could reach out and cup her cheek, stopping her from backing away completely. She froze, her eyes darting to his lips and to his eyes and back again. "I'll remember that one," he promised, more to fill the silence as he warred with himself.

But she had given him a taste, and now he was hungry. The split second their lips had touched had sent a thrill through him he had never known before.

He was so tired of trying to stay away from her.

For once, he gave into his desire and he leaned forward, pressing his lips to hers softly. She made a small noise at the back of her throat; half surprised and half elation. Then her lips responded to his, kissing him back firmly but sweetly. His hand moved to her hair, his fingers along her scalp adding to the sensation of his touch.

Their kiss broke after only a moment, each looking at the other with a hint of incredulity. Edward's mouth quirked, up and down, as if he wasn't sure he should allow himself to feel so good...but he was flying. He leaned in again just as she tilted her head up to meet his.

Their kiss this time was more heated. His hand tightened in her hair - not painfully at all - but pulling her closer to him. She went more than willingly, sitting up on her knees and putting her hands on either side of his face. She leaned into their kiss, her slight body against his.

Edward moaned against her mouth, but it wasn't with pleasure. With a gasp, Bella let go of him and tried to back away, but he held her close with his hand still on the back of her head. "I'm sorry," she whispered, not looking at him.

She tried to get up again but he held her fast. Bella looked up tentatively, but found Edward smiling. "I'm not."

Jasper got home and stopped short when he walked into his and Edward's bedroom. Edward was sitting on his bed, strange little titters coming out of him. He would giggle for a few moments and then wince, hissing as if he was in pain, but then he would just start cackling all over again. "Dude," Jasper said, and Edward looked over at him with a strange gleam in his eyes. "Are you okay?"

At that Edward started cracking up again and Jasper began to worry about his friend's sanity.

"I'm fine," he said between titters. Edward knew Jasper was worried and he tried to calm down. He wasn't sure how to explain the gamut of emotions that were each trying to one up the other for his primary attention. He was caught in a cycle of thought. First there was the pain. His body throbbed with each beat of his heart, spreading agony as it did blood. The constant pain and the toxins released by the dead or damaged capillaries that created bruises sapped at his strength and energy. He felt exhausted.

He thought about how, after Bella had helped him upstairs and helped him clean and bandage the gash above his knee, she had lain down with him in his bed. He thought about how she had stroked his hair and ran her fingers over his face. Occasionally, their lips would come together for tentative, shy kisses. He had fallen asleep with her lips against his. He felt peace and an intense sensation for her that he didn't quite know what to call.

He'd woken only an hour or so later, cursing James and his shoes and his stupid mind games. He'd wanted nothing more than to keep kissing Bella - all day and all night long if he could help it. He felt frustration and tumultuous anger.

Then it would sink into him that he had, in fact, kissed Bella. The girl that had preoccupied his thoughts since he was in elementary school and had figured out that not only did girls  _not_ have cooties, but it was fun to pull her soft brown ponytail and watch her get all huffy. The girl he'd eyed as his friends had playground girlfriends, and then, in Junior High, proper girlfriends. The girl he'd whose kiss he wanted more than almost anything else in the world until she'd wound up under this roof, and he'd realized he'd give up any hope of kissing her if it meant he could keep her safe.

When he thought about how it had felt to kiss Bella, his emotions were all over the map. Fear and trepidation, yes, but, mostly, it made him feel giddy. That's when the laughing would start - because he could not contain this elated feeling in him. Then he would remember that, even though James had bruised his body and broke his resolve not to cry, he had one upped him that night. He'd kept Bella safe. He felt proud.

Then the giggling would spike the pain in his chest and he would wince or moan, and the cycle would start all over again.

Edward took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself. "I punched James in the face," he said, and then instantly started laughing again because it sounded impossible to him, even though he had lived it.

Jasper's eyes went wide. "What?"

"I punched your father because he called my mother a whore," Edward said, calming again.

There was another pause as Jasper tried to read Edward's face. "Are you being serious right now?" he finally asked.

Wordlessly, Edward undid the buttons of loose fitting, long sleeved shirt he'd changed into after coming upstairs. He knew the peculiar grin on his face did not match his words. If Jasper had told him that he had punched his father, the first thing out of his mouth would have been _How are you alive?_ With no small amount of effort and wincing, he shrugged the shirt off so Jasper could see the extent of James' wrath.

"Jesus!" Jasper exclaimed, hissing in sympathy. The contusions on Edward's body ran up his side and across his chest mostly. They were black or deep purple where the toe of James' shoe had struck him. "How can you breathe with that?"

"S'not fun," Edward admitted. He gave Jasper a small smile. "I made him bleed," he added, unsure of whether he should feel so pleased at that fact.

"Looks like he returned the favor." Jasper motioned to Edward's bandaged arm.

Edward rolled his eyes. "It was glass. Bella," he couldn't help smiling when he said her name, "was baking me a cake. She slipped, the bowl broke," he gave a shrug that was no more than a twitch of his shoulders and pointed at his leg. "This cut could probably use stitches but...whatever." They both knew he wouldn't get it.

"And Bella?" Jasper asked, worried.

This time Edward smiled a genuine smile. "I pushed her in the closet before he came in. She's fine. He thought she was with you." His smile grew wider and he looked up at his foster brother. "I kissed her. Well," he amended, "She kissed me first."

For the second time that night, Jasper looked at his brother in total shock. "What?"

As Edward relayed the story of what had happened that day, he renewed his promise to himself that he would not let fear make him give up what he wanted to have with Bella. He had decided that James had taken enough away from all of them, and he didn't need to add to that. He remembered the look in Bella's eyes after he'd kissed her - the way they'd lit up.

He had never been able to keep her completely safe - but he could make her happy. He could give her, and himself, that much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: ::peeking out from behind fingers:: More sweet than sour? Yes? Maybe?
> 
> Couple of notes. First, this fic and my other fic, Alice's Jasper, Edward's Bella, have been nominated/validated in the Indie Fic Awards…which just…boggles my mind. For serious. I know who nominated Alice's Jasper, Edward's Bella, but I have no clue who nominated this little tale. Whoever did…and to all of you who have been so supportive, thank you. Really. I've said before that this is a very personal story to me and downright torturous to write at times, but it's been an overall positive experience so far.
> 
> Second, to my girls, CellaCullen, DizzyGrl28 and JadedandBoring for holding my hand and letting me cry on their shoulder when I need to. And for awesome editing skills. I love you. Frealz.
> 
> Lastly, we're still on track for 3 more chapters and an epilogue…. This is totally dependant on Bella. I know a lot of you have been anxious about her chapters, so you should know…we're there.
> 
> Yea, I'm a little scared too.
> 
> Okay, a lot scared.
> 
> Let me hear from you.


	8. Here To Stay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This was a really hard chapter for me to get through. May contain triggers regarding sexual abuse.
> 
> Disclaimer: These beautiful creations belong to Stephenie Meyer. Only the story line belongs to me.

_**"The hurt inside is fading  
This shit's gone way too far.  
All this time I've been waiting  
No I can not grieve anymore.  
For what's inside awaking.  
I'm not, I'm not a whore  
You've taken everything and oh I can not give anymore."** _

_**-Here to Stay, Korn** _

All things considered, that summer was a happy one.

Summer had always been easier. In years previous, it was easier to hide the bruises and the limping since none of them had any friends or anything to do outside of the house. Without school work, it was easy to keep up with their chores. James worked and spent many nights away from the house. All in all, summers were more peaceful than not.

This summer had the added complication of Alice, but by that time, Jasper, Edward, and Bella were used to hiding the aftermath of James' frequent fits of temper. Luckily Forks never got above 70 degrees, even in the summertime. Long sleeved shirts were not hard to pass off as normal.

Of course, this summer also had the added benefit of the growing relationships between Jasper and Alice and Edward and Bella. With Emmett busy preparing to go off to the University of Washington, the four of them spent a lot of time together. They found themselves alone at the Cullen house frequently. It was a relief - being able to be themselves as couples. Movie days were spent with Alice and Jasper curling up in the same recliner while Edward and Bella opted for the couch - Edward spooned up against Bella's back with his arm around her waist. When the sun was out they had picnics by the river that ran through the Cullens' backyard and just enjoyed each other's company.

Time progressed. Jasper turned seventeen and Alice turned sixteen. Jasper, Edward, and Bella marked one more year down until they could finally leave.

Sometime during the course of that summer, Bella's body began to change. Gangly, androgynous features turned into subtle curves. It wasn't to say that Bella was voluptuous - she was still thin and small- but seemingly overnight, when Edward put his hands at her waist to pull her close to him, he found it a bit more fleshy and curved. Her new, more shapely legs did things to him that he didn't quite understand. Up to that point, legs had not been very high on his list of anatomical female parts he particularly enjoyed. When he slipped into Bella's room one night to find her in the tatty shorts she slept in - her legs looking somehow longer and more curvaceous than they ever had before- he'd hurriedly amended that oversight.

But Edward wasn't the only one who noticed these changes.

It was late September, about a week after Bella's sixteenth birthday. Bella woke from a particularly horrendous nightmare one night to Edward's hands running soothingly up and down her back, and his lips kissing her temple. Awareness came back to her slowly, but it was Edward's soft, comforting words and his body pressed against hers that anchored her.

As she came back to herself, Bella noticed a dull ache in her hands. She realized she was clutching the front of his shirt in a death grip. She let go, flexing her fingers to get the blood flowing through them again. Edward took her hands in his, rubbing her fingers tenderly; watching her to make sure she'd broken completely free of the night terror.

"Back?" he asked quietly.

Bella nodded, attempting to shake the last of the frightening, anxious feeling away. She concentrated on the way his foot was running up and down her calf. It was an innocent motion, designed to soothe rather than excite, but Bella took a brief moment to appreciate that their still fairly new closeness meant that Edward now burrowed under the covers with her rather than remaining on top of them.

"What was this one about?" Edward asked, releasing her hands. He rested his forehead against hers while his hands returned to running up and down her back.

With a sigh, Bella's eyes fluttered closed briefly, remembering the unnamed terror that had filled her. "I don't know how to explain it. There wasn't really... It was dark. Like the basement. I was scared, but not just of the dark. I knew something was watching me. It wasn't the same as James...like...I didn't feel like it would hurt me, really. It felt more...creepy."

Edward chuffed lightly. "It sounds like Felix."

"Felix?" Bella opened her eyes so she could look at him.

Leaning back slightly, Edward studied her face and the genuine surprise etched there. "Felix doesn't give you the creeps? At all?" he asked carefully.

"You mean different then James...or Victoria?" Bella's lip twisted as she said the wild woman's name. Besides continuing to do drugs in their presence and stealing from James' stash when his back was turned, Victoria had also taken to making Edward's life miserable as often as possible, just because she could.

Edward ran a single finger down her cheek, bringing Bella out of her angry thoughts. He was still watching her with a look that was full of concern. "Yes," he clarified, answering her question. "Bella...do you not see the way he looks at you?"

Truthfully, the way Felix looked at her made her extremely nervous, but she had not differentiated it from his and Victoria's mere presence in the house. They were still mostly unknowns and entirely unpredictable. Victoria had proven repeatedly that she could make their lives hell on a whim, often manipulating James so he would lash out at one of them. Felix had not bothered them further than a rude comment, or a nasty glare. Bella knew that he too did hard drugs in the house and that alone made him dangerous, but none of that seemed to fit with what Edward was trying to get at.

"How do you think he looks at me?" Bella asked instead of answering his question.

Edward debated with himself. He didn't want to scare her, but he needed her to be more aware. "Inappropriately," he said after a long moment of searching for the right word.

Bella was visibly confused. "Really?"

"You seem more surprised than anything," Edward noted, reading her face, shocked that he didn't see any fear there. "You don't think so? You don't see it?"

She blushed slightly. "I just don't think anyone would look at me like that."

"What?" Edward's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You're kidding me, right?" He stared at her incredulously for long moments while she stared back, her eyes betraying her absolute certainty that no one would look at her with any sort of desire.

Then Edward was laughing.

"What!" Bella protested, feeling slightly embarrassed, but more amused at his mirth than anything.

Edward shook his head, rolling onto his back as he tried to contain his chortling. "You honestly have no fucking clue, do you?" he managed to ask.

"What are you talking about?" Bella demanded, leaning up on her elbows to smack his chest.

He wrapped his fingers around hers on his chest as he gazed up at her adoringly. "Do you know that, on at  _least_ a weekly basis I have to stop myself from throwing something at Mike Newton's head when he tells  _his boys,_ " Edward rolled his eyes at the slang, "about how much he likes your ass?"

"Are you serious?" Bella asked slowly.

Edward nodded, propping himself up on one elbow so he could kiss her. "You're beautiful, Bella."

When he was kissing her, she felt beautiful.

Of course, they had kissed in her bed before - whenever Bella had a nightmare since their first kiss, in fact. They were still more innocent than not - enjoying the benefits of extended make out sessions and hands only tentatively exploring chaste pieces of cloth covered skin. Edward's chest was fair game, and Bella frequently rested her palms against him, feeling his heart beat beneath her fingers. His hands often wandered up and down her sides - tracing her curves through the nightshirt she wore.

Tonight though, Edward was slightly more enthusiastic than normal. It was as if he felt that through his kiss and his touch, she might finally begin to see herself the way he saw her. He could play her a million songs that spoke of a woman's allure - soft skin, deep eyes - all the tiny physical pieces that created a pretty shell around a pure and good soul – but somehow, it was this physical expression that spoke volumes.

Their positions had reversed and Bella laid on her back as he leaned over her, kissing her thoroughly and fervently and slowly all at once.

They were so distracted that they didn't hear the door open.

"Fucking pervert!" James growled.

Edward and Bella flew apart with a gasp, but far too late. Victoria stood, her arms crossed and a self satisfied look on her face as she leaned against the wall by the door. Before he'd sneaked into Bella's room, Edward had paused as he always did, to hear James' snoring. He was a heavy sleeper.

Obviously, Victoria was not.

James crossed the room in three strides, grabbing Edward by the back of his t-shirt and yanking him off the bed. Edward tumbled to the ground, but before he could even move, James had jerked him to his feet. He pushed him backward against the wall and Edward groaned at the impact.

Bella kicked the blankets away furiously, getting to her feet as James brought his fist down on Edward's hunched shoulders. "Stop! Stop hurting him, please," she begged, anguished and only seconds away from trying to get between James and Edward. "We weren't doing anything wrong. It's not his fault. Please."

"She's right, James," Victoria suddenly spoke.

All three other faces turned to stare at her. Victoria snickered and walked forward, grabbing Bella's chin between her fingers. Bella gasped and Edward's teeth gnashed together audibly. "Look at you, with your big doe eyes. You try to look innocent, but I know better. I knew a lot of girls just like you," she said, an air of disgust creeping into her tone. "Teenage boys can't resist a pair of open legs, can they sweetie?"

"What?" Edward and Bella both cried. Edward narrowed his eyes and tried to move toward Bella and Victoria but James slammed him back against the wall warningly.

Victoria looked at James. "She probably has your son in her bed too," she smirked, releasing Bella's chin with a twist of her fingers.

Bella couldn't remember a time when she had been more shaken and bewildered. She tried to figure a reason why Victoria would say something like that, but came up blank. James might be cruel, but his words usually had some fact to them. "I don't - " she started.

"Shut the fuck up," James snapped. He took a step back, releasing the hold he had on Edward and glaring at the teenager with cold eyes. "Get out."

Edward's eyes darted from James to Victoria to Bella's stricken face. He looked back at James. "It's not - "

"I am not in the mood for your shit tonight," James cut him off, grabbing Edward's arm and yanking him out the door. Bella gave a wordless yell and tried to follow but Victoria knocked her back onto the bed. "You leave your fucking room again tonight and I'm kicking both of your asses, you and your whore," he yelled as he dragged Edward into the hall.

The door to the boys' room opened and Jasper was out in the hallway, looking confused and half asleep. James pushed Edward into him and both the boys tumbled to the ground in their room. Before either of them had a chance to get up he'd stepped into the room - right onto Edward's ankle. With the heel of his foot he bore down on a pressure point. Edward sat bolt upright, his hands going to his ankle above where James' foot was. He twisted, trying to get away, but his struggling only made it hurt more. "Dad!" Jasper protested, his hand on Edward's shoulder as he looked up at his father imploringly.

"You're under my roof, you keep your fucking pencil dick in your pants," James said threateningly, bearing down harder to emphasize his point.

"We weren't doing anything!" Edward shouted back between gritted teeth.

"Don't fucking start with me!" James finally released Edward's ankle and the teen yanked his leg away as he scooted backward. James turned slightly so he could point his finger in Jasper's face as well. "You stay out of her fucking pants, you understand that? And if you knock up any other girl you'll be out on your ass."

"What?" Jasper was confused as to why James would think he was having sex with Edward's girl when he had only barely started to discuss it with his own. James left their room with a final warning that if caught either of them in Bella's room again there'd be hell to pay.

When James returned to Bella's room he found her perched on the edge of her bed, her eyes watery and full of trepidation. Even though she was expecting it, she still cried out when James strode forward and grabbed a fist full of her dark hair, yanking her head back. He was right in her face, leaning over her - her small form almost entirely engulfed by his. "Why anyone would want to fuck your ugly ass is far beyond me," he snarled. Bella made a soft mewling sound at the back of her throat; his face, almost nose to nose with hers, was intimidating and frightening, and his hand twisted in her hair made her head throb with a sharp ache. "You want to be a useless waste of skin like my dear _wife_ ," he spat the word with obvious disgust, " and bring equally worthless brats into the world, you do it  _after_ you're out of this house, do you fucking get that?"

Her thought process muddled by the pain shooting through her scalp combined with fear and indignation made Bella blurt out something that she normally would have been too embarrassed to say. "I'm a virgin," she protested.

Victoria snorted in derision and James jerked her head back again. Bella groaned and squeezed her eyes shut tightly. "Keep your fucking legs closed. Understand?" When she didn't answer immediately he slapped her hard across the face with his free hand. She gasped and gave a quiet whimper. "Answer me!"

"I understand," she choked out, trying not to cry though she desperately wanted to. Her hands gripped the blankets of her bed.

James finally released his hold on her. Without another word he and Victoria left, slamming the door behind them. No sooner did the door shut than Bella crumpled onto the bed. Her heart pounded erratically and twisted painfully in her chest. She sobbed her hurt and the stupefying confusion she felt into her pillows, hoping the sounds were muffled enough that the boys couldn't hear her. She was glad Edward had Jasper to comfort him, and glad she could spare him her moment of weakness as she tried to clear the fog in her mind.

The fact that James and Victoria could be so entirely callous was something she could not fathom easily. She felt wrong - ugly and dirty and worthless. She felt frustrated because she didn't think she'd done anything to deserve their hateful words. She felt angry because the fact that they could twist the situation to the degree they had was utterly maddening; her skin crawled with it, like tiny bugs moving where she couldn't brush them off. Her world felt askew. Bella had always been one to believe the beauty in the world outweighed the ugliness, but it was nights like tonight, when it felt like all that was bad in the world was something she was personally witness to, that she felt that all her beliefs were a lie.

Morning eventually came. All three teenagers were inordinately quiet as they readied for school, the tension of the previous evening and the sleepless night they'd all had vibrating restlessly between them. Instead of taking his usual shotgun seat next to Jasper, Edward climbed in the backseat with Bella. He took her hand in his before he even closed the car door. As soon as they had pulled away from the house he gathered her into his arms. The relief she felt was palpable and the pressure around her heart eased significantly as she wrapped her arms around his neck, letting him pull her onto his lap.

"I wanted to hold you. All night I wanted to go to you," he whispered into her hair.

"I was afraid you wouldn't want me anymore," she admitted.

He pulled back, his hands cupping her face. "Why would you think that?"

She gave a small shrug and moved out of his hands so she could lay her head on his chest. "I know that last night was what you were scared would happen. I was afraid you would think it was too...dangerous to touch me again."

He stroked her cheek until she looked up at him and then he leaned down to kiss her. "I'm not going back to pretending," he assured her. Then he sighed; the school was right in front of them now. Bella got off his lap and slid to the other side of the car. "Anymore than is absolutely necessary, anyway," he amended, and squeezed her hand once before they had to get out of the car.

As they got out of the car, Jasper squeezed her arm briefly. He raised his eyebrows questioningly and she could see the sympathy and love her foster brother felt for her. Bella smiled back in return, her eyes flitting briefly to Edward and back. Jasper nodded, his eyes going to where Alice was running across the parking lot to meet them. The message there was clear.

As long as Edward hadn't given up on them, Bella would be fine. She could deal with being careful as long as they could still be together

"I don't know," Edward hedged.

Bella sighed. They had been going over this for an hour now.

A couple of weeks had passed since the incident in Bella's room. She and Edward had been careful - only kissing when they were sure James was out of the house or when they were around some safe corner at the Cullens'. They had maintained a careful distance at home, when James was there at least, but Edward and Jasper were both careful not to stray too far while she and James were in the same vicinity.

The students who had been accepted into the National Junior Honor Society, Jasper and Edward among them, had been invited to a day of paintballing as a reward for their hard work. Having had significant trouble in math, Bella had not made it into that prestigious group. The boys were wary of leaving her home alone, but Bella loathed the idea of them missing out on something for her sake.

"He told Victoria he was going over to her place," Jasper said. He wanted to go, that much was clear. It did sound like fun and Alice was going to go as well. However, no part of him wanted to leave Bella alone with his father. They tried to never be alone with him at all, but Jasper and Edward had always been more protective of Bella. "If he is, he'll be there all night."

"I'll be fine," Bella insisted. "All the chores are done. James will be gone. You should go out. Have fun. You can do me a favor and make sure you get paint in Jessica's hair for me," she told them, trying to get them to smile.

Their smiles were lackluster at best and Bella sighed. "Really. Go. If you don't, I will not speak to either of you for a week. I swear."

At that both of them smiled and Edward pulled her into the circle of his arms, grinning down at her lopsidedly. "That wouldn't be so bad. The less you speak the more I can do this." He leaned down, capturing her lips with his. Bella sighed softly and melted against his body.

"Hey!" Jasper cried after a moment. Without stopping what he was doing or even opening his eyes, Edward lifted one hand off Bella's waist and flipped Jasper the bird. The older boy laughed and threw a towel at them. "Would you cut that out? My girl is not conveniently located at the moment."

They broke apart, both of them breathless and smiling. Bella laid her head on Edward's chest, happy. "Well, if you go, you can see her and deliberately lose at paintball because you'll be too busy making out."

"So I get to stay, right?" Edward asked.

Bella looked up at him. "Nope. You get to play wingman. Run interference. Make sure no one disturbs them."

"Damn!" Edward said and he tugged Bella's chin back up so he could continue kissing her.

Eventually, Bella did end up convincing them both it was fine to leave her alone so they could have some fun.

For her birthday, Edward had somehow managed to get to a keyboard so he could record the lullaby he had composed for her as well as some of her favorite pieces that he played. It didn't sound quite the same as the piano, but it was lovely and it always made her happy when she heard it. With this in mind, Bella had stretched out on the couch with a couple of her favorite books and spent the majority of the afternoon happily reading as Edward's music played in her ears. Eventually, her eyes closed, the lovely notes all she heard as she drifted off.

Suddenly, the world tilted on its axis and Bella tumbled from the couch onto the floor.

Her heart beating erratically, Bella picked herself up, getting onto her hands and knees and yanking the earbuds from her ears. She looked up to find James, Victoria, and Felix staring at her from behind the couch. James still held it tilted, obviously having been the one to topple it. He was glaring - that look in his eyes that always made her throat run dry and her stomach twist with fear. Victoria, as usual, was smirking. And for the first time, Bella really looked at Felix.

He was leering.

Shaking that thought from her head, Bella quickly reached over and grabbed her books, holding them to her chest protectively. "I'm sorry," she said, automatically - though she had no idea what she was sorry about.

"Where are Edward and Jasper?" James demanded.

"T-they went paintballing. It's for school. Well," Bella took a deep breath, trying to calm her frazzled nerves. "It's for the students who got accepted to the National Junior Honor Society."

She hoped for a moment, that James would be proud. If not of Edward, at least of his own son. Of course, James just scoffed. "I guess even those idiots can get through a bullshit standardized test. What kind of a moron does that make you?"

Victoria and Felix snickered and Bella inhaled sharply, feeling like she'd been struck. "I did well, my math score just wasn't high enough," she mumbled in case he was expecting an answer.

Rolling his eyes derisively, James walked around the couch and sat, pulling Victoria down with him. "Go get us beers. Now."

Bella's eyes flickered over to where Felix was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, looking at her in a way that made her entirely uncomfortable.

She had to pass by him to get to the kitchen.

Taking a deep breath, she set her books on the stairs, wishing she had time to take them up to her room. She squared her shoulders and walked by Felix. It felt exactly like what she imagined it would feel like to stick her hand in a hole in the wall that was covered in cobwebs and overflowing with creepy crawlies. She breathed a little easier when she was past him, in the kitchen. Moving quickly, Bella grabbed three beers and used the bottle cap opener to pop the caps off. Taking another steadying breath, she walked to Felix who had turned to watch her. Wordlessly, she handed him the bottle.

Felix reached out as if to take the bottle, but instead he wrapped his large hand around her wrist. Bella tensed and instantly tried to grab her hand back. Felix's mouth twisted up into smug grin. He pulled her toward him.

"Let go of me," Bella whispered, her voice breathy with fear.

"Oooh," Felix snickered. "Don't be like that, little one." He tugged her closer, his hand reaching out to pinch her ass.

"Don't touch me!" she said, finding her voice.

"Whatsa matter?" Felix asked tauntingly. "You've been messing around with a little boy. Maybe now it's time to see what a real man is like."

In an instant, anger overwhelmed Bella's fear. The fact that Felix would dare even think about Edward, let alone talk about him in that way infuriated her. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this angry. Without thinking, she took the beers in her free hand and splashed him right in the face. Felix gasped, letting go of her as he sputtered. "Fucking brat," he seethed between his teeth and shoved her away from him. All three beer bottles crashed to the floor, making a fantastic mess.

"What the fuck is a matter with you?" James bellowed, appearing in the doorway and glaring at Bella.

"He pushed me!" Bella automatically defended herself, adrenaline coursing through her veins, carrying the anger through her bloodstream and keeping her from backing down though part of her mind was screaming at her to shut up before she made it worse. She was sick of listening to that part of her. She wasn't going to let Felix put his hands on her and say horrible things about the boy who was already ten times the man Felix would ever be.

"The little slut threw beer on me," Felix retorted, wiping the liquid off his face.

Grabbing her by her shirt, James pulled Bella to him violently. "You will respect the guests in my house, do you understand? Go get us our beer, clean this shit up and then you and I are going to have a conversation upstairs."

"Fuck you. I don't have to get shit for him!" Bella snapped.

When she realized what she had said, Bella's eyes went wide and the blood drained from her face along with the temporary rage. Her heart, already pounding out of control since she had tumbled from the couch, dropped down to her stomach. James' face was contorted with rage, and his eyes narrowed into frightening slits. He was towering over her in the space of a breath, his face so close to hers that she could feel the heat coming off it. He grabbed her by the arm hard enough that Bella cried out.

"I'm sorry," she said instantly, cringing as far away from him as possible. "Please, James. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."

James didn't say anything; he just began to drag her out of the kitchen toward the stairs. She hardly saw Felix and Victoria, snickering from where they stood in the living room. She dragged her feet but James pulled her forward easily. He ignored her pleading and apologizing, yanking her roughly up the stairs into her room.

"You really are the stupidest bitch, aren't you Bella?" he spat as he pushed her inside. He slammed the door shut behind him, the loud sound making Bella jump as she tried to twist out of his punishing grip. He shook her. "How many times are we going to have to have this conversation before you get it through your thick skull?"

Bella shook her head, frantic now because she knew what was coming. "I'm sorry. I just - "

"Shut up!" he hollered. He pushed her forward against her desk. "Jeans down," he commanded.

With trembling fingers, Bella undid the button to her jeans and pushed them down as quickly as possible. She knew from experience that making him wait would only make him angrier. He pushed her forward again so she had to catch herself on the desk. With one hand on her upper back he forced her down until her upper body was bent completely over the desk. Without warning he yanked her plain white panties down to join her jeans at her knees. Bella whimpered, gripping the other edge of the desk hard to stop herself from moving.

She heard the deceivingly quiet snick as he unbuckled his belt, and the rustle as it slid through the belt loops. It was only a second later she heard the swish before the belt landed with a horrible crack across her backside. Bella bit her lip to stop from crying out. By the sixth strike she was gripping the edge of the desk so hard that she felt the wood underneath her nails. She'd lost count by the time she finally let go and started to sob.

"After all I've done for you, you worthless little shit, you will respect me. You will respect my guests. Do you understand?" he yelled as he continued to whip her.

"Yes sir," Bella choked out in between gasps.

"I don't know that you do. I think you're too," he brought the belt down with particular force once, "fucking idiotic," twice, "to grasp the simple concept that if it wasn't for me," a third time, "your ass would be out on the street." He struck her one last time before throwing the belt down on the desk beside her. He leaned over her then, gripping her hair tightly to pull her head up. "This is why your mother never came to claim you after your father died. You're just too fucking stupid to deal with." He let her go and walked away from her.

Bella didn't move, couldn't move, at first. She lay over the hard surface, waiting for the fire in her backside subside while she tried to stop bawling. As it always did, James bringing up her parents had set off an entirely different kind of despair in her. She released her hold on the edge of the desk, resting her forehead on the cool wood while her hands tangled in her hair. Her shoulders shook with her sobs, the physical and emotional pain overwhelming everything else.

She was so lost in the pain and misery that she didn't notice that James had not left the room as he typically did after punishing her, so when she felt a hand on her ass she screamed. She tried to stand then but James pushed her back down with a sharp, "Shut up."

Keeping one hand on her upper back, he started to caress her ass, admiring his handiwork for the first time. His hands slid over her, eliciting frightened whimpers from Bella as he touched the too-tender flesh. He worked his way from the top to where her ass met her legs.

Then he reached between her legs.

Bella couldn't help but let out a strangled cry as his fingers moved over her. No one had ever touched her there. Her stomach twisted, a sick feeling of dread creeping over her, altogether different from the fear of his belt or his hand - of the pain she knew he could inflict. This was new and so much worse.

"Victoria was right. You're a little whore," James snickered as the tips of his fingers brushed inside her. "You're all wet." He leaned down again so his head was right near her ear. "You like being punished, don't you? Hmm? Is that why you put on such a dumb act? To make me punish you?"

Try as she might, Bella could not find her voice to answer. She could only shake her head vehemently.

"Lying slut," James withdrew his fingers from her and slapped her ass several times in quick succession. Bella let out an agonized cry, terrified that he was going to keep hitting her. "My punishments are not for your pleasure."

He stood again and this time he really did leave the room. The door opened and slammed shut again, and she could hear his footsteps on the stairs.

Shaking hard, Bella slid off the desk, down onto her knees. She was shaking so hard she knew she couldn't stand. On top of the pain, the sick feeling felt like a physical weight on her chest. She couldn't get enough air in her lungs. Nausea rolled over her in waves. She leaned against the desk to even remain upright as the sobs wracked her body. She felt like she was free falling without a parachute. There was no adrenaline - just the anxiety that she was seconds away from total destruction and oblivion. From shattering apart so completely that she would never be put back together again.

"Shit," Jasper muttered as they rounded the corner, almost home.

Edward's head snapped up from the iPod to see what Jasper was looking at. He felt his heart leap into his throat, threatening to choke him, and his breathing sped up. James' SUV was in the driveway. "Christ, Jazz. You said he was going to be gone."

"He was supposed to be gone. He said he was going to Victoria's house," Jasper responded thickly. Edward could see his face was stricken. Jasper looked as anxious as he felt.

Edward was out the door before Jasper had stopped the car completely. "Edward!" Jasper called after him, hastily throwing the car in park and running after his brother. He managed to catch him just before Edward threw the front door open in panic. "Wait, Edward, you need to calm down. You know if you go in there with guns blazing you're just going to make things worse for her."

Knowing Jasper was right, Edward forced himself to take a deep breath. It took considerable effort but he managed to swallow his anger. He nodded his understanding to Jasper.

Taking a steadying breath of his own, Jasper unlocked the door and stepped inside. They both paused in the doorway, listening. They could hear the TV in the other room, but nothing else. "Go check on her," Jasper said softly. "I'll go see what he's doing."

Edward didn't need to be told twice. He turned and raced up the stairs two at a time. The heavy feeling in his heart and his stomach got worse as he approached her door. The sun was setting and her light wasn't on. He knocked softly. Nothing. He knocked a little harder. Nothing. Unable to wait any longer he opened the door.

His eyes found her immediately, curled into a fetal position on the bed. She had already changed into her sleep clothes - a pair of cotton shorts and a tattered shirt. He could see even in the near darkness that her hair was damp from a shower. On the one hand he was relieved. She was obviously still breathing. But she wasn't acknowledging him. She wasn't even moving.

Closing the door quietly behind him, Edward called her name gently. "Bella?" No response. He walked across the room and sat on the bed. No response. She started a bit as he stroked the hair out of her eyes but otherwise, there was no response. The sick feeling got a little worse. He turned on the light on her nightstand and gasped at what he saw.

On her arm were several dark marks that would be bruises tomorrow, in a pattern Edward knew would match the shape of James' fingers. Those he had expected. What made him gasp was the look on her face.

Her eyes were open, staring straight ahead. She'd obviously been crying because they were bloodshot to high hell, and there were tear tracks on cheek. But her eyes were tortured, filled with an agony he'd never seen in her before, no matter what James had said or done. "Bella?" he said again, a little more urgent now. But she still didn't move.

Edward lay carefully on the bed so he could look her in the eye. He cupped her cheek gently, trying to get her to look at him. Her eyes finally moved, flitting briefly up to his before looking down, but not before he caught the emotion in them.

She was ashamed.

"What did he do, Bella? What did he say to you?" Edward asked, stroking her cheek and forcing himself to keep his voice calm. Her withdrawn silence was scaring the hell out of him.

Bella sucked in a breath at that. She didn't speak, but she did wrap an arm around his waist pulling herself closer against him and burying her head at his neck. He held her carefully, not knowing where else she might be bruised. He could feel her body trembling ever so slightly against him.

The doorknob turned then and Bella clutched him tighter. Edward looked up quickly but it was only Jasper. Jasper entered the room and closed the door behind him. "He wanted another beer. He'll be passed out on the couch in another few minutes," Jasper said disgustedly. He sat carefully on the bed behind her, his eyes finding the marks on her arm quickly. "Shit," he cursed quietly as his eyes inventoried the rest of her.

Bella's shorts had ridden up a bit. There were red and purple stripped marks across the backs of her legs. Jasper glanced at the desk and saw James' belt still resting there. He knew her ass was probably in worse shape. "I'm so sorry, baby girl. We should have been here," he whispered as he lay down behind her. He pressed his chest to her back, careful not to brush her backside, and began to stroke her damp hair soothingly.

Bella shifted slightly so she was not pressed as tightly against Edward's neck. "It was my fault," she said in a voice that sounded more like a screamed sore ache. "I was an idiot," she echoed James' words from earlier.

Edward's arms tightened around her and she felt Jasper's lips brush the top of her head. "You don't deserve this, Bella," Edward said.

She shuddered but didn't argue the point. She let their hands comfort and soothe her. She felt the knot of anguish, shame, and anger that had taken residence in the pit of her stomach loosen just a little. She let herself relax her tense body, carefully unfolding from a fetal position. Exhaustion hit her suddenly and completely. "I'm so tired," she murmured into Edward's chest.

"Go to sleep, baby girl," Jasper encouraged.

"We'll be right here," Edward added.

Bella shook her head against him, but her eyes were already closing. "You can't let them catch you here."

"Them?" Edward asked, tensing and holding her tighter. He looked at Jasper over her head, his eyes pained.

"Victoria and Felix were here," she mumbled.

"They're gone. Don't worry. James won't be up for hours. We'll be fine," Jasper soothed.

Comforted, Bella drifted off to sleep, wrapped in the safety of their arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - To clear this up now, because it will come up again, no Bella is not aroused by the things James does to her. It is a completely natural and unavoidable response. The basic mechanics are this - to compensate for the pain, the body releases endorphins. Endorphins cause the wetness, same as arousal does. It's one of the reasons that some people get off on S and M stuff. But Bella doesn't understand that and James is a mindfucking asshole.
> 
> Ok. A couple of things. First, this story is up for an Indie along with my story Alice's Jasper, Edward's Bella. There are some truly phenomenal stories nominated. I encourage you to take a second and vote.
> 
> Secondly, I love JadedandBoring, CellaCullen and Dizzygrl28 so hard I can't even take it sometimes. I would never have gotten through this chapter without them. JadedandBoring has a wonderful story up for two Indies. Check out The Kübler Ross Model and its sequel, Tie Me Here In Time.
> 
> That one was… extraordinarily difficult. I know I said only two chapters left (and an epilogue) but I think it may take one more chapter. You know I want to tell this story right. If you're still with me, bear with, okay?
> 
> And let me know your thoughts – good, bad…they mean a lot to me.


	9. Darkest Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This is the "it's always darkest before the dawn" chapter. May contain triggers for sexual abuse.

_**"There are times when I'm just a shell  
When I do not feel anything for anyone  
All I feel is hollow and bruised  
Used up and misused  
Forced to be someone I don't want to be"** _

_**-Darkest Days, Stabbing Westward** _

When Bella told Edward and Jasper what had happened, she left out most of the details. She told them how she'd been sleeping when James, Victoria, and Felix came home, and that she had been startled. She told them it was her jumpiness that made her drop the beers and that Felix had snapped at her and she had snapped back. She explained away her shame by telling them another half truth – that James had made her go back downstairs after he punished her and that she'd had to clean up the mess she made. She'd been a hot mess – still crying, red faced and sniffling, and she'd hated the way Felix and Victoria had sniggered at her.

She was relieved when they accepted her explanations. She didn't want them to know.

Her mind couldn't even begin to process what had happened without her throat constricting and her heart speeding. It was too confusing. She had been lost in the pain and her thoughts about her father's disappointment, and how could she have been so stupid as to say that to James when suddenly he had been there again – his hands on her in a way that he'd never touched her before. She didn't understand what she had done to cause it anymore than she understood why Felix looked at her the way he did.

Remembering Felix's leering and James' hands on her, Bella felt the pinpricks of panic begin to tighten in her chest and dominate her mind. She felt smothered by it – covered by a sickening slime that tightened her muscles and didn't let her breathe. Whenever she started to think about it, she would feel the panic coming on and she would desperately think of something else – anything else – until she pushed the entire incident to the back of her mind.

She was jumpier than usual around James, but he never gave her so much as a second glance. He'd taken to calling her a whore amongst his usual litany of insults but he had done that ever since he'd found Edward in her bed. Still, his presence made her nervous to the point of trembling, and it was only a matter of time before she did something to make James snap at her.

The first time James punished her after that night she had found herself frozen – utterly unable to comply with his demand that she take her jeans down. It had made it so much worse because he'd brought the belt down on her back and shoulders until she did what she was told, but he'd left the room as soon as he was done. He hadn't touched her again.

Felix was an entirely different story.

Whenever he was in the house, Bella was edgy. She mumbled to the boys that she was just creeped out by his staring, and they were more than happy to stick by her side if she had any need to be downstairs at the same time Felix was.

It was an evening in late September and Edward and Bella were making dinner. Because Felix and Victoria were there, Bella was tense and nothing Edward had tried could draw her out of her distraction. He watched her out of the corner of his eye as he cut up ingredients for a salad. She was standing at the stove, staring into the pot she was stirring with a blank expression on her face.

She knew that he was worried. She wanted to soothe him, or turn to him and smile, shrugging off this nervousness she felt, but she couldn't. Her brain felt vaguely cloudy – thoughts cutting off and disappearing into the fog before she could anchor them.

Suddenly Bella's skin felt like it was crawling. She could feel the gooseflesh break out over her arms and her shoulders automatically rose defensively. She was aware of Edward staring at her with a confused expression on his face, but she could not bring herself to relax.

He was there. She could feel it.

Her body started to tremble slightly, the tremors making the spoon she held clang inside of the metal pot. She set the spoon down quickly and looked over her shoulder.

Sure enough, Felix was standing there in the doorway watching her. He was in exactly the same pose as he had been that day.

Edward's eyes narrowed in concern and then he too looked at the doorway. He saw Felix leering – the man's eyes obviously focused on Bella's ass, and his fists clenched automatically. Felix broke his gaze, smirking at Edward's obvious anger. He raised one hand and beckoned Edward forward in a  _bring it_ motion.

Bella put her hand on Edward's wrist just as he took a step forward.

"Edward, he's dangerous. Worse than James," Bella told him at school the next day as they sat down at the lunch table.

"Why do you think I hate that he looks at you like that?" Edward retorted, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"And what were you going to do?" she asked, exasperated. "He could hurt you. I mean, really hurt you."

"Who would hurt Edward?" Alice's voice interrupted, startling both Edward and Bella. She laughed and mussed Edward's hair playfully before plopping down into her seat. Maintaining his usual safe distance, Jasper sat down beside her. Both couples sat with their hands entwined beneath the table.

Bella sighed and a nervous look passed between Jasper and Edward. "There's just a boy picking on me in class, that's all. Edward wants to...bring a knife to a gunfight."

Jasper choked on the water he had been chugging from his water bottle, stifling his laughter. "Are you accusing Edward of having a lack of guns?" he asked, making the strong man muscle flexing pose.

"No! No, I like Edward's...guns," Bella stuttered and Edward squeezed her hand, smiling a small smile. "They're just not as big as...the other guy's, that's all."

She looked down at the table. Edward frowned, disgruntled and frustrated.

Alice's eyes flitted between them and she gave a small shrug as she dug into the meal she'd brought from the lunch line. "Honestly, bullies are easy to deal with when you know how. Most of them are cowards looking for someone easy to pick on." Bella was staring down at the table so Alice resorted to throwing chips at her until she looked up. "You carry yourself like you're expecting someone to hit you all the time," she said. Bella's eyes widened slightly, darting quickly over to Jasper before she looked back down at the table.

"Hey!" Alice pelted her with another chip. "I don't understand why you always look like you're ashamed of something. You're such a pretty girl Bella."

"Alice," Bella sighed warily.

Alice frowned at her slightly. "Look, the next time someone gives you trouble, you just square your shoulders, look them straight in the eye, and stand up for yourself. Bullies are cowards. They'll back off." She paused thoughtfully. "Or you can tell me who it is and I'll jump a bitch in the parking lot."

Bella smiled halfheartedly. Edward rubbed his thumb across her knuckles soothingly and Jasper changed the subject, distracting Alice.

The weeks came and went. It was late Sunday afternoon and Bella had been putting off finishing the laundry all day long because James was downstairs with Victoria and Felix. It bothered her that the load she'd started earlier had been sitting there wet because she was too afraid to go downstairs. She hadn't wanted to bother the boys since Edward had been helping Jasper put together his science project all day long, but she didn't want to be downstairs alone either.

She was considering her options when she heard the door open downstairs and then a car starting. She ran to the window and watched as James pulled out of the driveway, Victoria visible in the passenger seat. Bella grinned and grabbed the boys' hamper from where she had set it in the hallway earlier, happy she would be able to get her work done without disturbing their studies.

She set about switching the laundry from the washer to the dryer. There was a stubborn sock at the very bottom of the washing machine. Bella frowned and bent further into the machine to grab at it.

"Mmm. Now that is a nice view," said a voice from behind her. Bella gasped, standing and whirling around.

Felix was leaning in the doorway, one hand on each side of the door jamb, effectively blocking the only exit from the laundry room with his massive frame. He was smirking, his eyes raking up and down her body. Bella felt her heart begin to race, her skin crawling with the ugly feeling that had plagued her since he had attacked her in the kitchen a couple of weeks previous.

"Please, excuse me," she whispered, her voice trembling. She picked up the empty hamper, eager to have something between her and the hulking man.

Felix didn't move.

Her stomach was churning sickeningly. She'd broken out in a cold sweat, her skin feeling clammy and her body trembling slightly. James and Victoria must have left Felix behind when they went wherever they had gone to. Bella briefly cursed herself for assuming Felix was with them. She wracked her mind, scrambling for what she should do. She suddenly remembered Alice's words from earlier that week. If there was any validity to it at all...well, anything was better than the cowering she was doing now.

Bella took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders and standing up straight. She forced herself to look up, staring directly into Felix's cold eyes. "Get out of my way," she commanded, narrowing her eyes at Felix.

The large man just chuckled. He took a step toward her, reaching out and wrestling the laundry basket away from her. Bella's throat went dry, all the bravado she'd put up falling away in an instant. She backed up, sucking in a sharp breath when she hit the wall. She swallowed sporadically trying to scream for Edward or Jasper. She irrationally wished that James were here - she would gladly take him screaming at her if meant the Goliath would keep his hands away from her.

When she opened her mouth Felix came forward, pressing one hand across her lips. She screamed against his hand.

He raised a finger to his own lips. "Shhhh," he said with a leer. "You wouldn't want me to tell James you were being impolite to a guest, would you?"

Bella's eyes went wide with this new fear.

When he was sure that his threat had sunk in and Bella would not scream, Felix dropped his hand to her shoulder. He ran both his hands slowly down her arms, his fingertips gentle as they glided over her skin. Bella's stomach churned with the revulsion of his touch. Her breath was loud in the silence of the house, coming out in shuddering gasps. Felix wrapped his fingers around both of her wrists. He raised her arms high above her head, pinning them with one of his huge hands. Bella closed her eyes, her voice whining in the back of her throat somewhere between screaming and whimpering.

"Please, stop," she whispered as his free hand slipped up her side, below her shirt.

Again, that maddening chuckle was the only response she got. His hand continued over the skin of her stomach, up her torso until his hand was cupping one breast. Since it was laundry day, she wasn't wearing a bra. Bella let out a soft cry, the tears that had been gathering in her eyes spilling over. He moved his hands over her, kneading and squeezing. Bella's hands - still trapped above her head - clenched, her fingernails digging into her palms.

"Your tits are a little small for my taste, but they'll do." Bella could hear in his voice that he was leering again.

"See how hard you are for me?" He rubbed his thumb over her nipple. She groaned, terrified and ashamed at the sensations coursing through her body without her permission. "Yes, you like that, don't you whore?"

Bella's throat was too constricted to manage any words. She kept her eyes closed, sniffling wretchedly and just waiting for it to be over.

But just then the floorboards upstairs creaked as one of the boys moved in their room. Steps crossed the room and a door opened in the hallway upstairs.

Felix let go of Bella and stepped away from her, surprised at the noise. Wrapping her arms protectively around herself, Bella ran. She ran for the stairs, almost knocking Jasper over as he came down them. She didn't stop running until she was in her room and even then, she wanted to keep running. Her mind was reeling, unable to shake the filthy feeling of Felix's hands on her body. Her room was no sanctuary from the poisonous emotions that ran through her. Suddenly her mind was assaulted with images, memories, and feelings.

She struggled to find a calmer, happier place to retreat to, but there was nothing for her. The bed where Edward had held her not so many nights ago, kissing her softly and slowly and sweetly was the same bed where James had pulled her down over his knees to spank her before he'd decided that a belt would get through to her faster than his hand would. The desk where she poured over music and magazines and homework with Jasper and Edward was the same desk James had bent her over for more whippings than she cared to remember; it was the same desk where James had pushed his fingers inside of her for the first time.

Even the floors were tainted with memories of James throwing her to the ground, his belt or his fists landing randomly on her body as she crawled across the carpet in a frenzied attempt to get away from him. She'd pressed herself into the corners of this room so many times with her foster father towering over her.

James' venomous words echoed in her head.

 _Idiot. Worthless. Whore.  
_  
Without really thinking about what she was doing, Bella opened the sliding doors of her closet. She crawled inside, sliding the door shut behind her.

It wasn't dark like the basement. The dark of the closet was more comforting. Pressed against the wall with her clothes hanging down and brushing her face, Bella felt slightly calmer. James had never invaded this space. It was small, but instead of making her feel like she was trapped, it was more comforting. Like arms that held her; hid her.

Then the door to her room flew open, banging against the opposite wall. Bella clamped both of her hands over her mouth to stop her scream. Terror gripped her again and she could think of nothing except that James or Felix was after her. Her mind was incoherent except for one phrase that repeated over and over like a mantra.  _Please don't let him find me. Please don't let him find me._

But it wasn't James or Felix that called her name. "Bella?"

No, it wasn't James' voice - harsh and cold and filled with a promise of pain to come. It wasn't Felix's voice - disturbingly charming and sleazy all at once. It was Edward's voice - worried and gentle and loving.

"Bella?" he called again, a little more frantic.

Bella both desperately wanted to call out to him, and desperately wished he would go away. As with the first time when James had touched her, she felt too dirty to let Edward comfort her. When he'd pushed her hair back out of her eyes, the tenderness of the act had burned like fire making the knot inside her stomach twist. He would be revolted if he knew.

Because James had been right. When he had touched her after whipping her the last time, she  _had_ been wet. She hadn't really noticed it before, always dealing with the aftermath and pain of James' punishments. How could she be aroused by something like that? Even now she could feel the moisture on her panties. Felix's hands on her body had sickened her and left her skin crawling, yet she had responded physically.

Through the haze she was in, Bella finally became aware of the burning sensation in her chest. She hadn't realized she was holding her breath. Before she could stop herself, she gasped loudly, dragging in deep ragged breaths of air.

She heard Edward's footsteps as he approached the closet and then the door opened. His eyes furrowed with confusion when he saw her legs peeking out from the bottom of the hanging clothes. He pushed the clothes out of the way so he could see her. "Bella? Baby what happened?"

She couldn't look at him. Again, like before, shame burned her cheeks and she only looked straight out - not really seeing anything.

"Jasper said you were upset." Edward knelt beside her, reaching out to touch her cheek. She flinched away from him and he sighed.

"Did he hurt you?"

Bella shook her head fractionally. More confused now, Edward slowly and carefully went to sit beside her, not wanting to upset her more. Again she flinched, but when he put his arm around her she shifted to lean against his chest. He watched her eyes as they darted from staring straight forward to looking out into her room. Getting the point after a moment, Edward slid the door shut. Bella sighed in relief, burying her head against his chest.

Her body shook as her silent tears became audible and she started to cry in earnest. Edward stroked her hair and her back, pressing his lips against the top of her head. She hated that she needed him so badly. She hated that in her selfishness, she kept him with her. He was kind, pure, and selfless. He deserved someone clean. He deserved so much more than she could ever give him.

Realizing this, Bella sobbed harder and he held her tighter.

He deserved those things, but she was selfish enough to not tell him. When he asked her repeatedly what had happened, she only shook her head and didn't answer.

In the next two months Felix managed to corner Bella a handful of times despite her best efforts not to be alone with him.

She could swear that his hands had permanently marked her body. She felt wrong – maimed and disfigured and ugly. Bella tried not to let herself think about it because when she did, she would writhe in her own skin. The feeling of filth and the creepy-crawly feeling, like bugs crawling across her, felt permanent in those moments – a part of her. She'd dug her fingers into the flesh of her arm hard enough several times that she had actually drawn blood. The pain of it was a relief but it lasted only seconds before the ugliness took her again.

Once, James had caught Felix pressing himself against her in the downstairs hallway. For the first time in her life, she'd been glad to see James. She'd begged him to stop Felix, pleaded that she didn't want this. In the three years she had lived under his roof, she had asked James for so little. She needed a father now. She needed his protection.

James' eyes were apathetic when he answered. "If you're going to act like a whore you shouldn't be surprised to be treated like one," he had said, his voice cold. He'd turned around and walked away without another word, letting Felix continue his violation.

Bella felt like she was drowning. The longer it went on, the more her mind felt like a tumultuous sea – her thoughts tossing like violent waves, loud as thunder and drowning out everything normal in her life. Her chest was constantly tight - like she could never get enough air in her lungs to breathe right.

She knew she was scaring the boys, but she also didn't know what to do about that. She couldn't tell them. She couldn't stand the thought of them looking at her the way James had. Because it felt so obvious to her, Bella couldn't understand how they didn't see her secret written as plainly on her as she felt it was. The fear and dread that they would know was almost as bad as the anxiety she felt whenever Felix was in the house. It was like waiting for the other shoe to fall and crush her completely.

The most devastating casualty was the loss of the contentment Bella had felt when Edward kissed her. For her, their kisses were tainted by her guilt and fear. She knew she was wrong and it was heinous for her to let him kiss her with innocent lips, yet she dreaded the inevitable moment when he would see her for who she really was. Some days she would break their kiss early, burying her face against his neck or his chest so she wouldn't have to look him in the eye. Sometimes she would kiss him aggressively, desperate to find what they'd had before, to feel pretty and deserving of his gentle love again.

The only way she found to cope with her chaotic and maddening thoughts was to remove herself entirely from her reality. Whenever she felt the panic start to set in her mind, she grasped for a calm, safe place. Her books became her escape and she lived for minutes and hours spent in entirely different times. There was a safety in losing herself in turn of the century England with characters she loved, who could not hurt her or look down on her because she was merely a passive observer. Her mind wrapped more easily around their thoughts, feelings, and emotions than it did with her own. Their problems didn't make her feel like she wanted to rip her skin from her body just to get the vile feeling out of her.

The downside of course, was that the more she escaped, the harder it was to hide the depth of her absorption from Edward and Jasper. She saw the worried glances they shared when she would space out. They joked with her, talked with her, tried anything to bring her back to the present but it didn't always work.

She had excuses. At first, she told them she was thinking about her dad a lot. Then as the fog in her mind made it hard to concentrate, she told them she was stressed about her falling grades. As much as she could, she put a smile on her face and tried to be normal, but more and more she failed. Bella put food in her mouth when they, or Alice and Esme, encouraged her, but it all started to taste like dirt. Eventually she could only manage a few bites even in their presence.

As time passed, the feeling of wrongness escalated. Bella hated her bathroom mirror. She hated mirrors period. When she caught a glimpse of herself and her reflection did not match the ugliness she felt, it made her unfathomably angry. She would stare and the rage would build and build with no outlet, leaving her no choice but to let it boil just under the surface.

One day it was too much. Something inside her snapped and she'd started screaming. They were wordless cries - the only thing that could describe the overwhelming mixture of emotions inside of her. Once she'd started screaming, she couldn't stop. The space inside her head felt like chaos and fire. The screaming brought the chaos out, laid it bare but she needed the destruction too. Her hands grasped mindlessly and flung whatever they found at the mirror until it broke.

By then Edward and Jasper had been drawn into her room by her screams. Edward grabbed her, pulling her out of the bathroom before the falling glass could hurt her. The sound of the shattering glass had been strangely soothing. She needed more, struggled in Edward's arms so she could break something else, but he had held her fast, both he and Jasper talking to her frantically. Their words didn't seep into her consciousness. Neither did James' shouting when he entered the room.

She did feel it when James had yanked her right out of Edward's arms, though.

It was the first time her punishment brought relief. That pain she was familiar with. She almost welcomed it after the terrible turmoil in her mind. The torment was easier to deal with when it was on the surface instead of in her blood stream. At the very least, the welts he left across her throbbing skin matched the ugliness she felt inside.

James had been dangerously angry. The only thing that stopped him from throwing her back into the small bathroom still littered with glass, was that the boys had stood in his way, pleading with him not to hurt her any more. Instead he'd flung her down on the floor at their feet, warning her that the punishment he'd just doled out was nothing compared to what would happen if she didn't clean up her mess.

The moment he'd gone, Edward had pulled her carefully to her knees, wrapping her in his arms and Jasper had knelt beside them, his hand on her arm. They'd both looked so helpless as she'd keened, muffling her cries against Edward's chest.

"Bella," Edward whispered desperately. "Please, tell me what's wrong. Why did you do that?"

"I don't know," she'd whispered back brokenly. And that was the truth. She had no concrete memory of any kind of thought process. She remembered looking in the mirror and then she felt like her entire world was made of fury. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

Felix was getting bolder, at least around James. The two seemed to have formed a friendship outside of Victoria's association. Bella had figured out that she was relatively safe if the boys or Victoria were around. Felix never touched her in front of them. It was when he got her alone or when only James was around to witness that he pinned Bella against the nearest hard surface and put his hands up her shirt or down her pants. It never lasted more than a few minutes and though he had pushed his fingers inside of her a few times, he had never tried to do any more than that.

That was bad enough.

It got to the point that Bella was plagued by horrific nightmares. She knew Edward still heard her when she screamed in her sleep. The closet brought her a small degree of comfort and security, so she spent almost every night curled up on the floor, staring up at a kaleidoscope of the undersides of her clothes and reading with the flashlight she'd found in the garage. Even in the closet she slept fitfully. Felix or James or other terrors always seemed to lurk behind her eyelids.

One day in early December Bella was sitting at her desk trying to concentrate on the Spanish homework she was desperately behind on. She couldn't seem to focus, her thoughts drifting away every few seconds so that when she snapped back to reality she had to start the line she was on all over again.

James bellowing her name automatically set her teeth on edge. She closed her eyes briefly, willing her heart to stop pounding before she got up and walked out of her room. Her nervousness doubled when she realized that Edward and Jasper were not in their room. Bella swallowed thickly, trying to quell her rising panic. James bellowed again, making her jump. She knew she'd be in trouble if she made him wait much longer. Hoping against hope that Felix wasn't there, Bella squared her shoulders and went downstairs.

Of course her luck couldn't be that good. Felix was there in the living room with James. James was on the couch, his arms spread wide over the back of it, and Felix was lounging lazily in the Lay-Z Boy. As soon as she appeared in the doorway, she felt his eyes on her and shuddered. When she spoke her voice was strained. "What?"

James didn't even look at her. "Get me a Coke and Felix wants a bottle of water."

Bella turned to play fetch, her airway seeming to constrict as she walked. Her stomach had lurched up into her throat and she felt nauseated. In the kitchen, a glance out the window answered the question that had been screaming in her mind: Where were the boys? She could see them outside, bundled up in their jackets, talking animatedly and stacking a pile of firewood. She couldn't think of any excuse to call them inside.

She opened the refrigerator and got the soda and the water out.

Taking another deep breath, Bella walked into the living room held out the soda wordlessly. James snatched it from her hands as he usually did, his eyes not wandering from the television set.

Though it would have been easier to take a few steps in front of the couch, Bella went around, not wanting to upset James. She was staring down at the floor when she approached Felix, her entire body trembling. She stopped walking entirely when she was a little more than arms length away. Trying unsuccessfully to hold her hand steady, she offered the bottle of water to Felix. She was holding it at the very bottom so the top was barely within reach of the frighteningly large man.

She heard him snicker.

There was a creak as he stood. He grabbed her by the wrist of her outstretched hand and sat again, pulling her to him. He spun her as he pulled and within a split second, she found herself sitting on his lap. Bella tried to pull away, a terrified noise coming from her as Felix's free arm wrapped around her waist, holding her snugly in place. She struggled, straining against him, but his hold was firm.

"Mmm," Felix's voice was low and gravely in her ear. "Keep wiggling like that."

Bella stilled automatically, not wanting to cause him any pleasure whatsoever. He scoffed, amused as she sat as far forward on his lap as she could get. Her body was shaking but her muscles were tense. She wanted to run so badly.

Felix hooked his legs around Bella's ankles, forcing her legs open wide with his stance. Her nails dug into the fabric of the chair and she tried to bolt again, but his arms may as well have been steel shackles. He kept his left arm wrapped around her waist, holding her firm while he rubbed her thigh with the right.

"Please," Bella whispered because she just wanted it to stop. Her entire body was coiled painfully tight.

"Begging for it, are you?" Felix rumbled as his hand moved to her inner thigh.

Bella exhaled and shook her head fractionally though experience had taught her that he would only twist her words. "Don't," she spoke, her voice hardly audible. She held her breath.

Felix moved his hand to her center, rubbing her over her jeans. Bella couldn't help but cry out at the contact and she gave a strangled shriek when Felix used the hand that was not rubbing her to force her upper body back against his.

James looked over, annoyed. "Would you shut the fuck up? He's not even hurting you," he sneered at Bella before glancing at Felix and rolling his eyes. "I swear to God, I don't know why the fuck you mess with her. She never stops sniveling."

"You could get a pretty penny if you sent her down to work at Aro's, you know," Felix said with a chuckle.

"Right," James scoffed. "She'd fit right in with sluts, but who'd want her?" he asked derisively, not looking away from the television.

The simultaneous feel of rejection and revulsion hit Bella like a slap in the face as she processed what James was saying. She was naïve, not stupid. They were talking about prostitution. Her breathing stuttered as her chest tightened, complete terror pumping through her veins with every heartbeat.

"You exaggerate," Felix chided. "She isn't hideous. You're always bitching about these kids not pulling their weight."

James shook his head. "Worthless brats. Anyway, that one isn't mine, thank God. You know they'd blame me if she got herself knocked up. It's hard enough for me to get her to keep her legs closed as it is without you encouraging her." He snickered. "Though you bit off more than you could chew with Felix, haven't you, girl? Mother fucker could probably break you right in half."

Bella could only whimper in response, her breath choked in her throat. They both laughed and Felix's fingers moved roughly over her. She bucked again, trying to break free of his hold, but his arm around her was still solid. Her movements caused him to make a small noise in the back of his throat.

That was when Bella felt his arousal pressing hard against her ass. Her head spun, caught between trying to get away and just accepting her fate so she could go somewhere else with her thoughts.

"Pity you have to keep her in one piece," Felix said lowly."What about your pretty boy? Aro's always looking for boys."

The hair on the back of Bella's neck stood up.  _Not Jasper_ , she thought desperately.

"Oh, would you shut the fuck up?" James said, disgust evident in his voice. He was about to say something else but his phone rang.

Startled and tense, Bella jumped at the sound, making Felix give a short groan.

James looked down at his phone and stood. "Anyway, it looks like they'll be here in a minute. Put the bitch down and help me with this shit," he demanded, heading for his office.

Relief filtered through her and she leaned forward again, ready to sprint the moment he let her go. Instead, he put both of his hands at the button of her jeans and undid it deftly. At that, Bella sobbed. She just wanted to be away from him. Her chest constricted, panic beginning to take over her mind as she struggled to keep herself calm enough to be coherent. This was supposed to stop. Felix was supposed to follow James.

Felix laughed again at her obvious distress as he put one hand down the front of her open jeans, slipping his fingers into her underwear. "Yeah, I knew you were wet for me," he chuckled. He put his tongue flat against her cheek, licking her right up to her forehead as his fingers probed her. Bella's eyes were shut tight and she was sobbing freely, her body shaking with the ugly disgust that she never got used to.

"Felix!" James called impatiently. Bella had never been so glad to hear his voice.

With a grumble, Felix removed his hand from her and stood, sending Bella sprawling onto the floor in an undignified heap. He crouched as she scrambled to her knees and caught her chin in his hand. He forced her to look up at him. "Soon." He said the word as if it were a promise. He strode away then, toward James' office.

It took Bella several awful minutes to pick herself up off the floor. She managed to make it up the stairs and into her closet in one piece, though the lightheaded feeling threatened to spill her back onto the ground. She drew her legs up tight against her chest and put her head down, her back against the wall of the closet, and started rocking back and forth.

She tangled her fingers in her hair, gripping it tighter and tighter until the pain of her tugging alleviated a fraction of the building anxiety in her. The turmoil in her head was loud, drowning out the real world in a cacophony of noises like wordless screaming.

It was hard to tell how long Bella sat there, rocking frantically, before she became aware of someone's fingers trying to pry hers out of her hair. She gasped and jerked away automatically, but the physical touch had caused the roar in her ears to fade and suddenly she could hear again.

"Bella. It's just us. Come on baby, stop." Edward's voice was gentle but she could hear the edge in it.

There was a tentative touch on her knee. "Come on, baby girl. Come on back to us." Jasper, her mind registered. He was scared too. She was scaring them.

Bella took a deep breath, forcing air into her aching lungs. The guilt mingled with the shame, creating a different, but no less potent, misery in the center of her being. Her sobs quieted to inconsolable weeping, but she took her hands out of her hair and wrapped them around her legs instead, trying not to scare Edward and Jasper any further.

They didn't question her about the cause of these episodes anymore. They'd found her in the closet in a similar state several times – sometimes when Felix wasn't there, so they didn't put two and two together. Bella shuddered, grateful for this small fact at least.

By the time she let them pull her up out of the closet her bones were aching from sitting in a tense ball for so long.

The next few days were quite hazy for Bella. Her mind would wander frequently, taking her away to places that weren't as nerve wracking and frightening as her everyday life. It was hard to even try and remain connected to reality. Even when she was at school or at the Cullens' thoughts of Felix crept back into her head, making her panicky.

What did "Soon" mean?

Bella was desperately afraid that he was threatening to do more than touch her  _soon_. As soon as what?

Sex was not something one could avoid thinking about as a high school student. Even though she was unpopular, it was impossible to avoid overhearing the conversations of who'd slept with whom. Between that and the hormones surging through her own body, it was not as if Bella didn't think about sex.

Now more often than not, even being around conversations of sex made the filthiness creep over Bella. It was getting harder and harder not to believe James and Felix's assertions that she was nothing but a whore.

Before she had thought about sex as something taboo, yet ultimately good; nice. She knew there was pleasure to be had - a lot of it if the girls in the locker room and every other movie weren't lying. Even the times she'd overheard James and one of his girlfriends, they'd sounded like they were having a good time. Now though, she had trouble thinking of sex without feeling uncomfortable - and she could swear she wore her shame like a scarlet letter on her chest.

But she was still a virgin.

All the books she'd read had given her a somewhat romanticized but ideal view of her virginity. She had thought about it as a gift of trust she would give to a man she loved. She thought about soft, light, and tender hands. With a single word, Felix had replaced lovely daydreams with nightmares of pain and violation.

Bella had known for a long time it was Edward she wanted to have sex with for the first time, and every time as far as she was concerned. Before, they weren't ready. Even if they had been, James' house seemed like a tainted place - and it had been the only venue available, so to speak.

Things were different now. It was hard to find time to kiss and when they did, Bella struggled with the guilt and shame that plagued her. Even though Edward didn't understand why, he could tell she wasn't as comfortable as she had been.

It was one of the rare nights they could share her bed because James had not come home. Edward was holding her, kissing her softly. She tried to return his touch, craving the feeling she used to get that she was beautiful - that they were beautiful, but it wouldn't come. Edward pulled back a little to look at her, feeling the tension in her shoulders.

She hated the thoughts of Felix's leering face that assaulted her mind then. She hated it because Edward didn't deserve to be associated with Felix, even in her passing thoughts.

Suddenly Bella was livid. This was supposed to be between her and Edward alone. Fuck Felix and his revolting touch. She wouldn't feel that way if it was Edward. Maybe her body responded to Felix's hands, and maybe that meant she wanted it, but it felt horrible in her mind. Her mind wouldn't do the same things with Edward.

Shifting on the bed, Bella leaned into Edward, pressing as much of her body against his as she could. Her lips moved on his harder and bolder than she ever had. Gone were the sweet, shy kisses. These kisses were possessive and fierce.

Edward let out a startled noise but then he smiled against her lips, kissing her back hungrily. Back in the summer, before this depression had hit her so hard, their kissing had been skirting the edge of something more. For months now he'd been trying to figure out how to bring back the girl she had been in his arms on the nights they could cuddle and kiss and just be together.

Bella's hand ran down his arm until she found his hand. Her fingers wrapped around his wrist and she pulled his hand up her body. She closed her eyes and pressed his palm against her breast.

Edward gasped into her mouth and pulled away, startled. "Bella, what…we…fuck," he stuttered.

Bella was distracted from his reaction by the fact that the ugly feeling did not envelope her. Determined now, she tried to scoot closer and Edward wasn't able to stop her before she figured out what his problem was

He was aroused, and she could feel it. Bella frowned, trying to figure out why he was suddenly so shy about it. It wasn't as though Bella wasn't familiar with Edward's hard on. He was, after all, a normal teenage boy with all the normal urges. Being that close to Bella in bed when he was so attracted to her hadn't failed to stimulate him.

Their unique exposure to each other had allowed them to bypass any awkwardness in the past. It was hard to be embarrassed when they'd seen each other snot faced and sobbing. There was no such thing as dignity when you were falling apart at the seams. They'd seen far more of each other than was totally appropriate, but it was different. For instance, James always punished Bella on the bare, and Edward felt nothing sexual the times he'd held her and calmed her while her pants were still around her ankles. And Bella had helped both of the boys change when James had beaten one of them hard enough that they had trouble moving.

As a result, when Edward and Bella kissed for the first time in her bed and he'd hissed when she scooted closer to him, they had been able to talk freely about his physical reaction. They'd asked each other questions as they held each other, talking easily with one another.

So why he was suddenly so embarrassed was a mystery to her.

"It's okay," she said softly, telling herself as much as she was telling him.

He swallowed hard. "I just wasn't expecting you to do that. We haven't talked about-" He was cut off again when she sat up on the bed and took her shirt off. "Bella." He wasn't sure if he spoke in protest or in admiration.

Instead of answering, she took one of his hands in both of hers and placed it on her bare breast. Edward looked up at her, uncertain but not unwilling. "You love me?" she asked steadily.

"Of course," Edward said instantly.

Bella laid back down next to him. "And I love you. That's all we need to talk about."

She kissed him and he kissed her back. She put his hands where she wanted them to go.

The sex was short and clumsy. When Edward pushed into her for the first time it had hurt, but then she had expected it to. He had murmured apologies through gritted teeth, feeling slightly guilty that being inside her when she was obviously in pain was so pleasurable to him. He kissed her softly and only moved in her a few times before his body stiffened and he'd drowned his cry against her lips.

Bella had to assure him several times that she was fine. She felt fine. More than that, she felt triumphant. There was so very little in her life that she had any control over. Bella knew better than to think she could stop Felix if he were to ever force himself on her, but she felt a measure of satisfaction that he would never be able to take her virginity. With Edward's bare skin to hers, his arms around her, and one less worry on her shoulders, Bella fell asleep in her bed for the first time in weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N – Brief reminder, and we'll discuss this more in the last chapter, but Bella has a very skewed perception of sex right now. It's NOT healthy and it's not safe. Another reminder – Edward is also a troubled teenage boy who was born in this time – not 1901. Values are different and I'm really sorry, but it's highly unlikely that a teenage boy, in love no less, and in that situation would say no. Just sayin'.
> 
> There are two chapters and an epilogue left. Because of the nature of this chapter, I considered holding back from posting until chapter 10 was done. Chapter 10 will be out shortly because it's almost finished.
> 
> Gah, that was a lot of darkness. You need a fluff break. I actually posted two finished stories that constitute as fluffy and funny. One is a slashy Jasper/Bella/Edward fic called The Difference Between X and Y, and the second is the Gift Exchange Fic I wrote for CiaoBella27 – Jack and Sally. That one has Disneyland in it! Disneyland! You guys deserve Disney after getting through this fic with me. Check them out if you're inclined.
> 
> Big thank you to DizzyGrl28 for all the handholding and helping me find the line without crossing it (I hope). And to JadedandBoring for additional hand-holding and beta work of the quickness. Her story, The Kübler Ross Model, is well worth the read if you're a glutton for punishment and can take more angst tonight. It's just fantastic. Its sequel is amazing as well. Check it out.
> 
> We're almost through the darkness, I promise. Thank you so much for making it this far with me.
> 
> Let me know what you're thinking.


	10. Wonderful

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: I am not a Doctor. Just saying. For the last time - may contain triggers for sexual abuse trauma.
> 
> Disclaimed: These beautiful creatures belong to Stephenie Meyer.

_**"I close my eyes when I get too sad  
I think thoughts that I know are bad  
Close my eyes and I count to ten  
Hope it's over when I open them  
I want the things that I had before  
Like a Star Wars poster on my bedroom door  
I wish I could count to ten  
Make everything be wonderful again"  
-Wonderful, Everclear** _

"Maybe it was a mistake."

Edward was sitting cross legged on his bed, his head in his hands, his fingers raking through his hair restlessly. He was wracked by guilt that he should not have had sex with Bella a few nights previous.

There was no one he wanted to have sex with besides Bella and it had felt good, to him anyway. But it had also felt off somehow. His usually shy, sweet Bella had been bold and seductive. In the moment it had been alluring and exciting. Looking back though, it felt wrong. It had been easy to push aside the weird feeling because touching her and seeing her like that had been nothing short of amazing. Still, in the obviously dark place that Bella had been in of late, it shouldn't have happened. It didn't help that it had only dawned on him after the fact that things had moved too fast and they hadn't used protection.

"She's getting worse," Edward told Jasper, unnecessarily.

Jasper was well aware that she was getting worse. It was impossible to miss the emptiness they saw in her eyes more and more, and the slump of defeat in the set of her shoulders. "She's breaking," he said quietly.

"She's not weak," Edward protested defensively.

"Of course she's not weak. Whatever he's doing or saying...whatever she's not telling us about is destroying her." Jasper worried his lip between his teeth, and Edward could see his eyes were drawn. "What if she's giving up?"

Edward didn't answer. He knew his fear and frustration were written all over his face.

They both knew that the only way they worked, the only way they survived was because they had each other. Together they were legs of a tripod- holding themselves up straight and tall - but if one of them broke then surely they would all fall.

Though Edward had rarely been able to stop James from hurting her, he'd always been able to comfort her afterward. Even when she'd withdrawn into her own world he'd been able to coax her back, but it just wasn't working this time. Her despondence was lingering to the point that she would space out mid-sentence sometimes. Even Alice was worried.

For the first time in three years, Edward desperately wished he had someone he could talk to – someone he could go to. He needed someone with more power than he had. He needed someone who could tell him what to do. He needed someone to help him save her, because if he couldn't there was no way he could survive this.

He needed a fucking adult.

Bella's mood swings were completely bewildering to him. When they had another chance to spend some time alone together she had been noticeably distracted. Her eyes were not dead that night but they held the anguish that was becoming too familiar. Desperate to make her smile, he had tried brushing his hand over her breast, but instead of the smile she'd worn when it was her putting his hand there, she had gone rigid in his arms. She'd started to panic and he had been hard pressed to figure out how to calm her.

Most frustrating of all, she never had a clear answer as to what made her that jumpy. "I was just surprised. I don't know - I haven't been sleeping and it's making me grumpy," she had murmured in between a litany of apologies.

"I'm just tired," had become her excuse of choice, but it was entirely too vague. Physically, she looked exhausted. Some days it seemed to be a huge struggle to even walk upright. There were dark circles under her eyes and her face was looking gaunt. But physical weariness was not enough to explain her behavior. She was undoubtedly tired of their situation, of the way they lived, but did her "I'm tired" mean that she was ready to give up?

Overwhelmed by the enormity of the feeling that something cataclysmic was on the horizon, Edward did everything he could think of to keep her safe. He very rarely let her out of his sight, even skulking in the hallway when James called for her specifically. He did as many of her chores as he could. He tried everything he could think of to make her smile. At school, he tried his best to catch up with her between classes, just because he knew she liked to walk with him - and he wanted to know if whatever was bothering her lately had something to do with school.

As school wound down for the semester they received news that Edward hoped would bring Bella a little relief. He knew enough that their poisonous environment was not helping her fragile mental state. However, right before the semester was set to end, James had a weeklong conference that he was supposed to attend in Seattle. Carlisle and Esme had gotten all the appropriate clearances from the foster family agency and were taking all three teenagers in for the week. Not only that but Emmett was also done with school for the semester and was coming home for winter break with his new girlfriend Rosalie in tow. He was hoping that spending a few days in a house safe from James would help break the spell Bella seemed to be under.

It was Monday. Edward, Jasper and Bella were supposed to go to the Cullen's' that night though James wasn't set to leave town until early the next morning.

That afternoon, Edward was running later than he wanted to lunch. His geometry teacher had kept them a little past the bell going over the review for the final that was on Wednesday. Edward was irritated because, besides the fact that he didn't need the help, he was anxious to be by Bella's side.

As he approached the table he could see Alice and Jasper were missing, but Bella was not alone. He narrowed his eyes when he realized that Mike Newton was sitting beside her. He was leaning in close and looked to be chatting. She was not looking at him and he could recognize the discomfort written on her features plainly enough. Edward started to walk faster, the cafeteria seeming far too large all of a sudden. Then, Mike reached out and touched a strand of Bella's hair. Bella cringed away and Edward saw red.

"Get the fuck away from her, Newton," Edward snapped, grabbing Mike's arm and jerking it away from Bella. "Do you have eyes? Can't you see she doesn't want you near her?"

Mike yanked his arm back. "Hands to yourself, Masen," Mike snapped back, standing to face Edward.

"You follow your own advice and we won't have a problem." Edward's hands were fists as he stepped between Bella and Mike. He felt Bella tug at his wrist worriedly, but he didn't back down. All of his anger and frustration over being unable to protect her had been rumbling inside of him for years now. He couldn't stop James but he'd be damned if he let Mike Newton so much as make her uncomfortable.

If you had asked Mike why he said the next thing that came out of his mouth he couldn't have told you. He was typically rather a nice guy. He had been raised to be respectful of his peers and it was something he usually had no problem with. More than that he genuinely liked Bella Swan. She was shy and sweet and had explained things patiently when he didn't understand something in their science class.

But being a teenager was confusing. Losing Edward as a friend years previous had hurt and over time the hurt had turned into anger. That day, he dealt with his anger in exactly the wrong way and lashed out at the wrong person, as teenagers are prone to do. "What's a matter with you anyway, Masen? You can only share her with Whitlock? Everyone knows about the fucked up incest situation you have going on-,"

Anything else Mike might have said was cut off when Edward's fist connected with his face.

Edward watched in vague horror as the other boy went flying back. He'd hit Mike hard, and he could see the blood pouring from his nose. The instant his fist had connected, the fury Edward had felt like a loud roar in his ears dissipated. He didn't even register the throbbing pain in his knuckles. For a long moment, he couldn't even breathe because he was so shocked.

Then it was suddenly very noisy.

Other students came running. Jasper's voice calling his name made Edward turned around, but it was Bella's face he automatically honed in on.

There was more emotion in Bella's face than he had seen in a month. "Edward. Oh my God!"

He took a step toward her, his automatic reaction to comfort her because she was obviously upset, but then something grabbed him by the collar. He twisted in an iron grip and found himself being hauled out of the cafeteria and down the hallway toward the principal's office by Coach Clapp.

Reality slapped him in the fucking face just then and he realized what he'd done. He'd never been in trouble in school before, but he knew well enough what happened. Three day suspension, at least and there was always the possibility that Mike Newton's parents would press charges. But it wasn't that thought that had his stomach twisting and his knees feeling distinctly weak.

He knew the first thing the principal was going to do would be to call his guardian.

Esme Cullen hummed quietly to herself as she tapped at her computer, making notes and calculations for a restoration project she was working on for one of the city's dilapidated historical buildings. She was clacking away when she heard the sounds of a car coming up the long gravel drive. She smiled, knowing her niece and her friends were here.

Over the last year, Esme had really come to love the three teenagers. They were, one could say, a little rough around the edges, but that was to be expected, she figured. They each had seen far more tragedy in their young lives than anyone should have to deal with. They were often paranoid. Bella and Jasper were soft spoken and even Edward seemed nervous at times. She had supposed that being uprooted by the circumstances they had - Jasper and Bella losing the parents they'd grown up with to death and Edward watching his parents get hauled off to prison - it was only natural that they were a little off. Alice and Emmett both had told her how the teens were treated at school. Like outcasts. Esme felt her heart pang. It was a cruelty of life that she still found hard to accept. People were afraid of things that were different and many dealt with that fear with derision.

Despite their quirks they were lovely children. They were mostly well behaved and thoughtful individuals. Certainly easy to love.

Esme clucked to herself worriedly.

James had called her an hour or so previous to let her know that Edward had been in a fight at school. He was suspended for three days. Esme had assured him that she had no problem with Edward being home for the next three days. She had asked if Edward had any restrictions that she needed to follow.

"No," James had said, sounding irritated. "He and I will discuss it further when I get home."

Esme had sympathized. She had raised rambunctious Emmett and often had her hands full with her wonderful niece. Neither of them had ever been in a fight, but they had both seen their share of trouble. As a parent, one was stretched to the very limits of their patience at times. Teenagers in particular seemed to have a knack at knowing how to make their parent's lives difficult.

She watched from the window as they got out of the car. Jasper got out of the driver's seat and walked around to the passenger side. He reached in and took something from Edward's hands, shouldering the backpack Esme recognized as Edward's in addition to his own. By that time Bella and Alice had gotten out of the backseat. Edward got out of the passenger side slowly, looking distinctly paler than usual.

All four of them looked so subdued.

Esme sighed quietly. She knew from experience that teenagers who were as close as they were often picked up on each other's moods and backed each other up. The year previous, Emmett had gotten in a lot of trouble with Esme and Carlisle when he'd gotten overly zealous with a few of his friends and a paintball gun. He'd been contrite for a couple of days afterward, and his abnormal behavior had caused Alice to glare and snip at her aunt and uncle.

Prepared for a potentially trying night, Esme was about to move off toward the kitchen to make some comfort food when something tugged at her consciousness. There was something off about the way Edward was moving, she realized. He had a certain confidence about him typically that was missing today. He moved slowly; stiffly. She furrowed her eyebrows, wondering if the fight he'd been in had been worse than she imagined.

All that afternoon, Esme was struck by the nagging feeling that she was missing something.

Dinner was too quiet. None of them ate a lot. Bella had been picking at her food for a couple of months now. Esme knew she was going through a hard time. Every time she'd attempted to talk to Bella the girl had just brushed off her concern. She'd mumbled something about missing her dad, and as the semester wore on she had been worried about school. Esme had done what she could - cooking the food she knew Bella liked on the days when she, Jasper and Edward stayed for dinner and offering to listen if Bella ever wanted to talk. Bella had always respectfully declined any conversation, assuring Esme she was fine.

Truthfully, Bella looked more alert than she had in weeks. Her eyes were always darting over to Edward, looking concerned. It was definitely a complete reversal from the norm.

Edward excused himself politely and was asleep in one of the guest rooms on the third floor before Carlisle got home. Emmett and Rosalie arrived not that long afterward.

Tuesday morning Edward still looked drawn and exhausted when he got up with Alice, Jasper and Bella. After they'd gone, he sat at the table staring listlessly at the oatmeal Esme had made for him.

It dawned on Esme that Edward was not using his right hand to hold the spoon. In fact, his right arm was resting in his lap.

She frowned to herself again, that odd feeling tugging at her again.

When Edward had finally given up trying to force down any more of the oatmeal he had brought it to the sink.

"Would you play something on the piano for me?" Esme asked, knowing that Edward always loved to play the piano.

He looked over at the piano longingly and then back down at the floor. "I don't really feel like playing right now. I'm sorry," he murmured.

Concerned now, Esme put her hand on his arm. He hissed suddenly, recoiling away from her touch. "I'm sorry," he mumbled automatically.

"Edward," Esme said slowly, furrowing her eyebrows. "Are you hurt?"

"No!" Edward said, too quickly and too nervous. "I mean. I'm just sore. I was just..," he searched for something feasible. "It was just the fight. I got knocked around a little, that's all."

Instead of assuaging Esme's concern, Edward's excuse only served to triple it. "I didn't think you were hurt that badly. Has this Mike Newton kid given you problems before?"

Edward was shocked that she didn't immediately suspect it was him who had started the fight. He didn't have a lot of time to dwell on it, his rising panic at Esme's persistence becoming harder to control. Especially when the next words came out of her mouth. "Sweetheart, have you told James about it? I'm sure he could help you."

"No!" Edward cried, again too quickly. He automatically started to raise his hand to run through his hair and winced again. "I'm fine. It's fine. It won't happen again. I swear. It was a onetime occurrence."

Seeing how agitated he was, Esme relented. "If you're sure. Just remember that James is there to help you, if you need it. Don't be afraid to go to him if you get into something over your head."

Edward let out a strange, humorless laugh that was more pained than anything else. "You worry too much Esme," he said, but his voice did not match his nonchalant words.

When Carlisle got home that evening Esme quietly spoke her concerns that Edward was more injured than he was letting on. She pointed out his eating at the dinner table and then told him about the piano and how he had declined Emmett's request that they play video games as well. "I think there's something wrong with his arm," Esme confided in her husband. She hesitated but then she spoke the nagging suspicion that had been eating at her since she'd watched Edward get out of the car the day before. "I think that there's more to this than a random bout of teenage angst," she said quietly.

"What makes you say that?" Carlisle asked.

Esme struggled to put her suspicions into words. "I don't know, really. There's just something about his attitude. It feels off for this just to have been about a simple fight. He looks like he's carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. And then, the way Jasper and Bella look at him...like they're waiting for something. Worried about something." She shook her head.

Carlisle considered this. He understood what Esme was talking about.

When Alice came back into the kitchen looking for a drink Carlisle called her over and asked her, nonchalantly as possible, if she knew of any problems Edward had with Mike Newton.

Alice rolled her eyes. "He certainly didn't have a problem with him yesterday. He knocked him out cold. Mike didn't even see it coming."

Esme's eyes widened a bit in shock. "You mean Mike didn't hit him at all?"

"Oh, no. Edward knocked him right out." Alice frowned a bit. "I think Edward has a bit of a temper - but Mike shouldn't have said that about Bella. Bella's been having a hard time as it is."

The next morning, Carlisle had a late shift so he was able to talk to Edward.

He called him into his office and told him that Esme had noticed he wasn't moving his arm well.

"I just want to take a look. Bad bruising can lead to permanent damage, even if doesn't feel like it," Carlisle explained. It wasn't precisely a lie - it was just highly unlikely.

It took some talking but Edward finally relented, if only to show Carlisle that his arm wasn't that bad. He had seen the bruises yesterday and while they hurt, they weren't as bad by half as what Jasper had gotten the previous Christmas.

So he took off his shirt, keeping his undershirt on because Carlisle did not have to see the bruises that covered his back and chest.

Years of seeing some fairly horrific things as a Doctor allowed Carlisle to keep his absolute horror from showing.

Edward's entire right shoulder was horribly bruised. As a doctor, Carlisle was able to read his wound fairly accurately. Someone had hit him not once but again and again in that same spot. Under the guise of examining the underside of Edward's arm using the magnifying mirror he kept on his desk, Carlisle took a few moments to ensure his voice was calm when he spoke.

"Edward, these aren't from a fight, are they?"

Edward's eyes widened perceptibly even as he responded automatically. "They are."

Carlisle tilted the mirror in Edward's direction so he could see the bruises easily. "You see this?" he pointed to a pattern on Edward's skin, overlapping ovals on the edge of the bruise. "This would indicate that someone hit you several times in the same place. Usually, when you're in a fight, you're moving around. The bruising would be spread out." Edward yanked his arm back, but didn't move otherwise. He was staring at Carlisle with a deer in headlights expression. "Son, I need you to tell me the truth. Please. Who did this to you?"

"I can't." This was not the Edward Carlisle had come to know. This Edward was terrified. His eyes were wide and pleading and brimming with tears. "Carlisle, please," he begged, his voice desperate. "You can't tell anyone."

"It's okay, Edward." Carlisle tried to reassure him. "I'm not going to be mad at you. If someone is being violent with you, I just want to help you before it gets out of hand."

Edward opened his mouth to lie again, but he made the mistake of looking up into Carlisle's eyes. They were so earnest and compassionate. "I can't," he whispered, more to himself than anything else. His eyes darted around the room like a caged animal looking for escape.

Tilting his head so he could look the frightened boy in the eye, Carlisle tried again to reassure him. "You don't have to be afraid."

Edward nodded absently, looking down and away, but when Carlisle reached out to touch his shoulder reassuringly, he cringed, as if expecting to be struck. Carlisle sighed, seeing he was going to have to try a different approach before the teenager bolted altogether.

"Is it another student at your school?" he asked softly. There was a long pause but finally Edward shook his head, the movement almost imperceptible. Carlisle tried not to let his relief show. He could play 20 questions to get the answer he needed, as long as Edward was answering. "Is it someone else at your school?" Another infinitesimal head shake.

Carlisle wracked his brain, trying to think of where else he might have gotten hurt. As far as he knew, Edward, Bella and Jasper didn't go anywhere besides school, home and his own house.

As a doctor, Carlisle's mind was trained to think of any and all causes for every situation, no matter how unlikely. Keeping an open mind often aided in giving the correct diagnosis. However, Occam's Razor applied in medicine as it did in real life. The most obvious answer was, more often than not, correct. Carlisle's logical mind warred with the side of him that was, after all, just a man. The most obvious answer was that if Edward had not suffered this injury at school and he had most certainly not suffered it under the Cullen's roof - that left only one place he could have gotten those bruises. He hated to even think it, because if it was true, the person who had harmed this innocent child was a man who Carlisle considered a friend. He was a co-worker. He'd been welcomed under this roof and at their table.

He forced himself to say the words. "Was it James?"

Edward drew in a sharp, shuddering breath, a single tear spilling over his cheek. Seconds passed like hours. Finally, he nodded his head once, still not looking up.

Carlisle exhaled in one quick gust, all the air leaving his lungs as invisible hands squeezed his chest. He felt like crying. He felt like throwing up. He felt horribly guilty that he hadn't seen this sooner. "Was this the first time?" He hoped against hope that Edward would say yes. Any parent could make a mistake, even of this proportion. Carlisle would help James - they would talk and it would never happen a-.

Edward shook his head. A tiny movement. No.

"Has he hit Jasper and Bella too?" His tone was harder than he wanted it to be, causing Edward's head to snap up. The fear in his eyes doubled the pressure on Carlisle's chest, making it feel like his heart would literally break. "Please, believe me. I'm not angry at you," he said kindly, forcing the soothing tone back into his voice. Edward calmed slightly, but the wariness did not leave his expression. "Is he hurting them too?" Carlisle repeated.

Dropping his gaze back to the floor, Edward nodded again.

"How long has this been going on?"

Edward chuffed and didn't answer. Carlisle heard the words anyway:  _too long._

Carlisle leaned forward, his head in his hands as he tried to think.

The silence stretched on between them for a minute, and then two. With his face hidden, Carlisle did not see the look on Edward's face go from frightened to angry. Edward stood suddenly, his arm shooting out and shoving a pile of books off of the desk. Carlisle raised his eyes in surprise.

"What are you going to do?" Edward seethed. "You're going to tell him what I told you, and he's going to spin some story, and you'll believe him." He gave a short, desperate laugh. "Why wouldn't you? You work with him." In a sudden rage, Edward knocked over the chair. "Why did you make me tell you?"

Carlisle stood, taking a step forward to go to Edward, but just as quickly as the teenager's fury had snapped on, it visibly drained from his face and tense features. The fear was back, stronger than before. Edward immediately dropped to his knees, gathering the books he had upturned. "I'm sorry. Just let me pick it up. I-I-I don't know why-," he tried to explain. But then Carlisle was standing over him. When he did this, Edward's mind went into an instinctive survival mode and, as Carlisle crouched down to help him pick up the books, Edward dropped the ones he had already picked up. He flung himself backward, pressing himself against the wall with his good arm thrown up to protect his head.

His logical mind understood that Carlisle Cullen would never hurt him the way James had. However, logic had little to do with what Edward's mind was doing at that moment. He was panicked because now Carlisle knew and he couldn't take it back. The last time Edward had threatened to tell someone, James had dislocated his shoulder. When James had been hauled into the CPS office a year previous, Jasper had spent days on end hardly able to move afterward. Edward was terrified of what James would do if his colleague accused him of abuse. His consternation had driven him to basic, Pavlovian responses. When he had lashed out in anger before, James had always been quick to strike him down. His natural reaction to Carlisle's presence looming over him was to get as far away as the room would allow and then to make himself as small as possible - making less of himself available to hit.

"Edward," Carlisle said softly. His voice was heavy with sadness. Edward didn't react to his gentle tone. Tentatively, Carlisle put his hand on the boy's shoulder. As he expected, Edward flinched. "Edward," Carlisle repeated. Edward sucked in a sharp breath of air. His body was trembling visibly and Carlisle wanted to hug him. He didn't dare, not knowing what that might trigger. "Listen to me. I'm not going to hurt you. And I believe you. I cannot and will not ignore what's right in front of my eyes."

Unwinding himself, Edward shifted so he was leaning against the wall on his back instead of his side. He looked at Carlisle with trepidation in his eyes. "We'll be fine. Just,  _please,_  don't tell him. He'll..." Edward cut himself off, knowing he'd already said too much.

Carlisle knelt down in front of the boy, bringing his face eye-level with him. "I will not let him continue to hurt you."

Edward's eyes searched his and Carlisle could see that he didn't believe him, not really. Not that Carlisle could blame him. He had been betrayed by his birth parents and beaten by his surrogate parent at the very least. Suddenly, the skepticism he had seen in Edward so often over the last year and a half made perfect sense. No, Edward did not take Carlisle at his word - but he could see that he desperately wanted to.

It took Carlisle the better part of an hour to get Edward to open up at all. He hated pressing the boy who was so obviously traumatized, but he needed more information before he could decide what to do. Endeavoring to take someone's child away was not something that could be, or should be, taken lightly.

It was a question about Bella that made the dam in Edward finally break. He went from rigid shoulders, sitting up straight and tense on the couch to suddenly slumping down, his hands over his eyes. "She needs help,' he whispered. Then his face crumpled and he started crying. "I can't help her. I've been trying and I can't help her."

Then Edward couldn't seem to stop crying. In the last three years he had cried, but not like this. He had cried in frustration. He had cried when it hurt too badly not to. He had cried for Jasper and Bella, but never for himself. Now, the floodgates opened and he felt everything that he had been keeping at bay. His terror. His overwhelming sadness. His grief and his anger. His body shook with the sobs that wracked him until he was gasping for breath.

When Carlisle went to him and put his arms around him, Edward didn't hesitate. He clung to the older man like a drowning man clings to a buoy - all desperation and fear.

Beyond words, Edward just sobbed. Each muddled thought that passed through his head seemed to bring on a new wave of hysteria. He cried because he was scared of what James would do to him when he found out. He cried because he hated feeling this weak and this broken. He cried because it had been so long since anyone had been this kind to him that it literally hurt.

Carlisle held him and comforted him as best he could, trying hard to be stoic because he could sense that the boy needed someone else to be strong for once.

It seemed like hours before Edward finally went limp in Carlisle's arms, his tears quieted to the point of hiccups and staccato breaths. Carlisle didn't let him go until Edward pulled himself away, bringing his legs up close to his chest as he tucked himself as far into the corner of the couch as he could go. He felt utterly exposed - naked and vulnerable - and he hated it, but he was too tired to put the walls back up. The weight on his shoulders was suddenly too much to bear and he felt too bowed and broken to move under the force of it. He took the water bottle Carlisle offered him and drank almost all of it at once, parched from the rawness in his throat.

They sat in silence for another few minutes, Carlisle just offering his presence without pushing.

Then, Edward started talking - his voice uncharacteristically and heartbreakingly small. He spoke without looking up, like he was ashamed of something. Like he had anything to be ashamed of. He told Carlisle everything.

Carlisle listened, asking soft questions when he needed to and trying desperately not to cry. He wished fervently that he could take away Edward's hurt and fear and let him be the carefree teenager he should have been. The more he heard, the more he needed to set things right for the three teenagers he cared for.

When Edward was finally talked out, Carlisle could see his eyes drooping. He looked ragged and utterly exhausted. Carlisle gently encouraged him to go up to the guest room on the third floor and take a nap. Edward had nodded and trudged out the door and up the stairs. He looked so completely defeated that Carlisle's heart ached painfully as he watched him go.

Hearing the door to the office open, Esme came down the hallway. She found Carlisle leaning against the wall, his head in his hands. She went to him and he pulled her into his embrace, hugging her fiercely. "We've been so blind,' he whispered, finally crying his own tears - his heart broken for the things these kids had suffered while he had been entirely oblivious.

When Jasper and Bella arrived home from school, Carlisle called them into his office. Edward was already there. He was looking down at his shoes and didn't acknowledge their presence. They were instantly on edge.

Carlisle asked Jasper to see his left wrist. Confused, Jasper held it out. Carlisle twisted it carefully, frowning to himself. "It didn't set right," he said with a small sigh. He released Jasper's wrist and raised his eyes to look both him and Bella in the eye.

He told them that he knew about James and they both looked as panicked as Edward had. Just as he had done with Edward, Carlisle tried to reassure them that he was going to help them.

To that end, he told them that he wanted all three of them to come live in the Cullen house. Permanently.

Even Edward's head snapped up, not expecting that.

He had already been on the phone with his lawyer already. Edward and Bella were not much of a problem. Carlisle and Esme had already gone through most of the clearances they needed to become foster parents in order to be able to let them stay over for the week. Jasper was a little trickier. Carlisle didn't want to risk sending him back to his father for even a night. "I'm trying to have it figured out by the time he gets home. If I don't have something figured out by Friday," he trailed off. "Well. I'll buy him off if I have to."

"You don't have to do that," Jasper said, so quietly he could hardly be heard. He took a deep breath and thought hard about Bella's episodes, and how he would do anything to stop her from suffering through them, but he still couldn't say the next without fear strangling his words. "Just get them out. I'll be fine. I'll survive."

Carlisle shook his head firmly. "No. You're not meant to just survive, Jasper. You deserve more than that, and I'm certainly not going to turn the other cheek and pretend your father isn't hurting you."

"What are you going to tell Alice and Emmett?" Bella whispered. She was huddling on the couch between both of the boys but not leaning into either of them. Her arms were wrapped around her chest.

Carlisle paused. "That's entirely up to you. What do you want me to tell them?"

None of them answered and Carlisle spoke again. "My son and my niece love you. I encourage you to trust them with this. They'll still love you afterward. That I feel confident in promising."

And he was right. They requested that Esme and Carlisle have that particular conversation when they talked to Alice and Emmett about the three moving in. When Alice and Emmett emerged from Carlisle's office Alice was obviously crying and Emmett was, for once, not smiling.

Alice was angry at first. She went straight to Jasper, standing on her tip toes to get in his face. "How could you not tell me?"

"Alice!" Esme chastised, obviously surprised.

Jasper had stared back at her with huge, sorrowful eyes, unable to speak. He felt like a failure. He felt like his father was right and he wasn't a man.

But then Alice had thrown herself into his arms. "When you pulled away...when I thought I squeezed you too tight?" she asked, looking up at him.

Understanding what she was asking, Jasper nodded his head. "Yes."

"And last Christmas? Your wrist...that wasn't from skiing."

Jasper shook his head. "No."

"Oh, God. Why didn't I see it?" Alice cried.

"Alice," Jasper whispered into her hair, holding her as his knees gave out and they sunk to the floor together. He was so grateful she wasn't running from him. "I didn't want you to know."

They'd spent most of the rest of the night crying and talking. They had all cried - or Emmett had looked like he wanted to. Even Rosalie, though she was a stranger to them, had words of encouragement and comfort for them.

Because they were all so emotionally charged that day, Carlisle got Alice, Jasper and Bella excused from school.

Instead of going to class that Wednesday found Jasper and Bella entering James' house for potentially the last time. Edward had gone with Emmett and Rosalie in Emmett's Jeep to get a few boxes so they could pack what little they had.

"You're quiet," Jasper observed as he walked inside with Bella.

"I don't know what to think," Bella mumbled back. "It doesn't feel real." As they got to the stairs she reached out to squeeze his hand. "And I'm worried for you. I think Carlisle can keep Edward and me out of this house - but what about you? What if he can't keep James away from you? You're  _his,_ " she said fretfully.

Scared of that himself, Jasper didn't answer. They'd reached the top of the steps then and Bella let go of his hand.

They were about to go into their respective rooms when the sound of a door opening made them both pause. They looked up, shocked to see Felix standing in the doorway. For a moment, the man appeared shocked. Then a slow smile spread across his face.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Jasper demanded, furious at the way Felix was looking at Bella. "You don't belong here."

Felix scoffed, turning his gaze away from Bella to glare at Jasper contemptuously. "Not that I need to answer to you, you little prick, but James offered me the use of his room while he was away."

"Jasper," Bella's voice was hardly more than a whisper. "Let's go. Come on, let's just go." She had come up beside him and was squeezing his hand so hard that Jasper thought she might actually hurt him.

"Aww," Felix said, deliberately moving between them and the stairs, "What's your hurry, baby? You aren't happy to see me?"

Bella whimpered, and Jasper pulled her close to him in response, narrowing his eyes at Felix. He took a calming breath, forcing himself to keep his voice steady despite the fear he was feeling. "Get out of the way. We're leaving."

Instead, Felix moved closer to them. He didn't acknowledge Jasper at all, his eyes focused solely on Bella. "You feel free to leave, boy. You and your boyfriend get to have her enough. Now it's finally my turn."

He reached out then, grabbing Bella's arm and Bella cried out, terrified, trying to jerk away from him. "Don't touch me!' she screamed.

"Look at you, putting up such an act. You know you like it when I touch you. You know how wet you get for me," Felix growled, tugging her out of Jasper's arms and pulling her against his chest. Bella strained to get away from him, her hands pushing on his broad chest, trying to find leverage.

Felix's words sunk into Jasper's shocked mind slowly. Suddenly, Bella's deteriorating mental stability over the last few months made sense. All of it made sense. Her extreme anxiety when Felix was in the house. The way that, even though she had always been irritated at his and Edward's need to protect her, she had sought them out to go downstairs with her if she needed something when Felix was there. The way Felix looked at her. Everything made sense and he was furious at himself for not seeing it sooner.

"Get your hands off her!" Jasper shouted, enraged. He was on Felix in a matter of seconds, trying to push his way between him and Bella.

Felix pushed Bella backward, sending her sprawling to the ground of the hallway. He caught Jasper's fist in one huge palm. Jasper threw himself forward, catching Felix off guard so that he stumbled backward, hitting the opposite wall. Infuriated, Felix grabbed Jasper by his shirt. Though Jasper was very tall, Felix was taller and so he was able to lift Jasper right off of his feet. "That was a bad move, boy. You I can break."

With that, Felix walked a few feet and threw Jasper backward - right down the stairs. Bella screamed, watching in horror as Jasper flew over open space before hitting the stairs hard about five steps down. He tumbled, his limbs flailing, and crashed straight through the banister. He landed with a sickening thud on the floor of the living room, sprawled with his leg jutting out at an unnatural angle and splinters of wood everywhere. His head was turned to the side, blood beginning to pool around it almost immediately. His eyes were closed.

"Jasper!" Bella screamed. She climbed to her feet and tried to run forward - desperate to get to him - and screamed again when Felix's arm wrapped around her waist, dragging her back.

She flailed in his iron grip, but Felix was too strong. "Let me go! He's hurt! I need to help him!" Without even grunting in effort he lifted her up, tossing her over one shoulder as he turned around.

She realized they were heading for her room and began pounding her fists against Felix's broad back, utterly panicked for Jasper and herself. "Let go!" she screeched, trying to kick her legs.

Felix slammed her down so hard on her bed that all the air left her lungs in a rush. Bella was momentarily stunned as Felix quickly straddled her. His hand came down, clamping over her mouth and squeezing her cheeks painfully, effectively muffling her shrieking. "You cooperate now, and don't make me hurt you. James won't be pleased as it is - but he'll get over it."

It was too much. Her mind was blank save for the terror and the manta that screamed inside her.  _No, no, no. Not this. Please._ She shook her head, frantically trying to loosen Felix's hand. She started to flail again, scratching and kicking and punching him as hard as she could. It seemed to be annoying him more than hurting him, though a few red claw marks had appeared on his cheek.

He lifted his hand off her mouth so her wailing was audible again. "Shut up!" he demanded as he grabbed her hands by her wrists, squeezing so hard that Bella cried out in pain. He pushed her arms down and pinned both of her wrists in one of his hands against her chest. He slapped her hard with his free hand, again and again until she went limp on the bed, dazed and quieted by his blows.

"You just couldn't make it easier on yourself, could you, you dumb bitch," he muttered, letting go of her wrists. Her arms fell lifelessly on either side of her head as she cried quietly, trying to shake off the stupor. Felix moved his hands to her shirt. The ripping sound as he yanked her shirt open was deafening in Bella's ears, matched only by her heart thundering out of her chest. In a haze, her mind could not react with any kind of coherency.

For the first time that he could remember, Edward was anxious to get back to James' house. It felt wrong to be away from Bella and Jasper at the moment.

He just couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong.

Finally, Emmett pulled into the driveway. Edward jumped out almost before Emmett had put the brakes on. He nearly sprinted to the door.

When he got inside, his heart stopped and he froze for the space of an endless second. "Jasper!" he yelled and ran forward before falling to his knees at his foster- brother's side.

At first, Edward was positive that Jasper was dead. The blood that seeped from a large wound that started on his forehead and arced back into his hairline was everywhere. It saturated Jasper's blond hair and spread around his head like a macabre, tilted halo. When Edward reached out, instinctively trying to staunch the blood flow by clamping his hand down on Jasper's wound, the other boy's eyes flew open. He groaned loudly in pain.

By then Emmett and Rosalie had made it inside and had taken in the situation. "Jesus!" Emmett exclaimed. "Rosalie, call 9-1-1."

Jasper's lips were moving but no sound came out at first but a soft, "Buh," that was no more than a breath.

Then a bloodcurdling shriek from upstairs made it obvious what Jasper was trying to say. Bella.

Before he could even process what he was doing, Edward was on his feet and running up the stairs. His mind was blank save for the panic and the need to get to Bella. He didn't even register Emmett's footfalls right behind him.

Initially, all Edward could see was Felix's huge form kneeling on the bed, his back to the door. Then he became acutely aware of what Felix was doing. One of his hands was holding Bella's head like a basketball player palmed a basketball. Her face was turned to the side so that Edward couldn't see her but she was screaming. Her shirt was torn open to her shoulders and Felix's other hand was at the front of her jeans, obviously trying to get them off of her as she struggled.

She was so tiny in contrast with Felix. Tiny and fragile and Felix was trying to break her.

With a yell of fury Edward ran across the room, barreling into Felix hard enough that they both went tumbling to the floor. Felix automatically pushed back, forcing Edward away from him. Edward was about to go for him again but suddenly Emmett was there, fists flying at Felix. "Help Bella," Emmett commanded as they scuffled.

Diverted, Edward's eyes searched for Bella. She wasn't on the bed any longer. As soon as Felix's weight had left her she had tried to run but her legs wouldn't hold her. She had pressed herself into the corner of the room, her legs hunched up close to her body and her hands clutching the tattered pieces of her shirt together. Her head was down, pressing against her knees and he could see that her body was shaking hard even from across the room.

He ran to her, kneeling beside her. She let out a wordless wail, flinching away when she felt his presence beside her. "Bella, it's me. You're okay. You're okay," he repeated.

Behind him, Felix and Emmett were shouting as they fought. Felix was slightly bigger and had more experience in fights but Emmett was younger and livid. They seemed to be fairly evenly matched.

Of course - Felix had never liked even odds. As soon as he found a break in Emmett's blows he'd stood and bolted from the room. Emmett was right on his heels.

Meanwhile, Edward had unbuttoned his jacket and was trying to place it around Bella's shoulders. He brushed at her hair, trying to get it out of her eyes so he could see her face. She raised her head as he did and Edward gasped.

Much of the left side of Bella's face was red and swollen from where Felix had hit her. Rage rushed through Edward, making it difficult to even move. He felt like if he moved he would run after Felix so he could rip him apart with his bare hands. But an equal part of him knew that Bella needed him more than he needed to see Felix hurt. She was obviously scared out of her mind.

"Come here, baby. It's okay," he coaxed, his hands wrapping around her fingers, trying to get her to loosen her hold on her shirt. He worked his fingers under hers slowly, murmuring softly to her the entire time and trying to get her to concentrate on his words instead of the shouting downstairs.

Abruptly, she let go of the torn fabric and let him put his arms around her. "Is Jasper dead?" she whispered numbly.

"No, sweetheart. Rosalie is with him. He's alive and help's going to be here really soon, okay?" As if to verify his words, they could hear sirens in the distance.

It felt odd to Bella that at a time like this - when she'd been beaten and Jasper was badly hurt - that the first thing that crossed her numb mind was that her father's old co-workers would be pulling up to the house and seeing her in this state. Shame burned through her, bringing with it a torrent of tears.

She wrapped her arms around Edward, clinging to him for dear life as the events she'd just survived crashed over her.

The aftermath was confusing.

It turned out that, as Felix had run down the stairs, Rosalie had cold clocked him right in the face, breaking his nose. She had also gotten him good with the mace she always carried in her purse. The pain Felix experienced was all the worse as the mace hit the scratch marks Bella had left below his eyes. He was incapacitated long enough that the police were able to get him in handcuffs before he could move out of the fetal position he was in on the floor.

Jasper's wounds, while looking grisly, were not life threatening. The ambulance arrived right after the police, the medics more concerned with his state of semi-consciousness than the blood. His head was cracked and required stitches, but the blood was worse than it looked - head wounds always bleeding profusely. They had put him in a neck brace though while they loaded him onto the stretcher and into the ambulance.

Edward would not come downstairs with Bella until Felix had been hauled away. By then she had changed into a fresh shirt. He'd had to convince her not to take a shower, knowing that the hospital would want to check her out even if Felix had ultimately been unable to follow through on his desires. He had nearly bitten the head off a medic who approached her, scaring her, before assuring them that she didn't have any wounds they needed to check out right then. Apologetic, the medic had handed Edward a blanket that he wrapped around Bella's shoulders before getting into the ambulance with her and Jasper.

Time passed in a blur at the hospital.

Jasper, of course, was worse off. His head required an obscene amount of stitches. His leg was fractured and his ribs and spinal chord had been bruised. He'd been sedated so his doctors could measure the severity of any spine or neck injuries without risking him making it worse.

Edward refused to be separated from Bella after a nurse tried to talk to her about an internal exam. Bella had started panicking and Edward had started yelling until Carlisle came and ushered them both into a quiet room. When Edward had calmed Bella down enough, Carlisle had spoken to her, assuring her that no one would have to touch her as long as she could assure them that Felix hadn't raped her. After a great deal of coaxing, she did let a nurse collect the skin and blood from underneath her fingernails so that they had the additional evidence against Felix.

Esme came in, looking teary eyed. She'd bought an entirely new outfit for Bella and put it in the bathroom attached to the private hospital room, telling her that Carlisle had said she could take a shower if she wanted.

Before long they were all gathered in the private room, Jasper included though he was intensely groggy. Edward and Bella sat side by side on the other bed in the room. Alice and Esme sat on either side of Jasper's bed, Alice holding his hand. Emmett and Rosalie were in chairs in the far corner of the room. Emmett's lip was split and his cheek was bruised from his fight with Felix. He had his arms crossed, looking more like a sentinel than anything else. He looked ready to kick the ass of anyone who dared try to hurt his friends again.

That was how Carlisle found them when he stepped in the door, a pensive expression on his face. He closed the door behind him and moved to where he could look Edward and Bella in the eye. "I'm admitting you both to the hospital," he began quietly. He held up one finger when Bella opened her mouth to protest, imploring her to wait.

"The police just informed me that, as per their regulations, they called James quite a while ago. He should be here shortly." He could see that Edward, Bella and Jasper looked utterly terrified at the prospect of being faced with James after the day they'd had. "Checking you into the hospital gives me a measure of control. I assume you don't want to let the social services people take you?" he asked Edward and Bella.

They both shook their heads quickly. Carlisle nodded. "I'm not going to let him in here, okay? You don't have to worry."

"Aren't the police going to take him away?" Alice said angrily.

Carlisle grimaced sadly. "Not yet, Alice. Right now, all they know is that Felix was the only one that did anything."

Bella winced at Felix's name, flinching as if she had been physically struck. Edward tightened his arm around her.

Carlisle's pager went off and he looked down at it. "He's here," he said grimly. "Just stay in here, no matter what, okay?"

Carlisle could see the panic written all over their faces, like they were milliseconds away from bolting. For what felt like the millionth time that day his heart broke. They were just kids. The terror etched into their expressions was unfathomable. The things they must have been through for James' mere presence to cause this reaction... "Listen to me. I swear he won't ever hurt you again, alright?" He looked at each of them in turn. He could see they didn't believe him, not really, but still they each put their trust in him. Given what they had been through, it was a profound gift. The need to protect them swelled in him.

"I'm coming with you," Emmett said, from the corner of the room he'd been occupying quietly. Carlisle's heart gave another pang. His son, who so rarely stopped smiling, now looked angry. Calm, but angry. He could see the same desire reflecting in him - the need to protect the three terribly wounded children Emmett had come to know as friends.

"So am I," Rosalie said, stepping forward beside Emmett. The look in her eyes made her just as fierce and intimidating as Emmett's muscular frame did him.

Carlisle nodded at them both. "Let me do the talking," he commanded firmly.

It seemed like forever and the length of a heartbeat all at once before they heard a familiar step echoing down the hall of the hospital. Each footfall felt like a reckoning. As James got closer, his footsteps slowed. They became uncertain. Finally he was standing in front of the trio at the door. His face showed nothing but concern.

"Carlisle...they said my son was in this room. And Edward and Bella too?" he asked, sounding for all the world like the concerned father he should have been. "I don't know what happened. The police just said I should come here. Are they alright?"

"No," Carlisle said evenly. "They're not. But they will be. Now I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"Carlisle, what's going on? Why are you acting this way?" James asked, confusion infused into his tone. He was definitely a skilled actor.

Carlisle's voice was low, and threatening. "You're not getting near them again. Ever."

At this, James' eyes narrowed. "I don't know what it is you're accusing me of, but you can't keep me away from my own son."

"You can drop the pretense," Carlisle said, his normally gentle voice hard with the fury he was struggling to contain. "I know what you are. I've seen it for myself. Jasper has a wrist bone that never quite set right."

James was glaring now, his mask beginning to crumble. "As many things as I've seen here, I have the right to keep him out of the hospital. Yes, he broke his wrist, but he has full functionality of it. I didn't need a hospital to keep him in casts forever."

"You might have been within your rights to keep your own child from getting medical attention, but you don't have the same rights with Edward and Bella. Edward's X-rays show signs of mended bones that aren't on record at the hospital." Carlisle leaned closer to James looking more menacing than anyone would have thought him capable of. "And I have pictures of the bruises that were on Edward's body that were not put there by Mike Newton, as a cafeteria full of students can attest to."

The two men stared at each other, neither one of them willing to back down. After a moment James tried to step around Carlisle, but Emmett stepped right up into his face, blocking his path. Rosalie also moved to stand on the other side of Carlisle, looking every bit as menacing as her boyfriend when she stared at James.

"Carlisle, I swear to God, if you don't let me in this room-," James started through clenched teeth.

"You'll what?" Carlisle spat back. "Are you going to try to hit me like you hit them anytime they pissed you off?"

Carlisle glanced over James' shoulder in time to see two uniformed officers walking toward them. He turned back to James' livid face. "I think there are people here to see you, anyway."

James looked over to see what he was talking about. His eyes narrowed when he saw the officers. He turned back to Carlisle, his face twisted with rage, and reared back to punch him.

Everything happened at once then. Emmett stepped in between his father and James as the officers rushed forward. James' fist glanced off Emmett's shoulder instead of hitting his intended target and the officers yanked him backward. The next second James had been pushed up against the opposite wall as one officer yanked his arms behind his back, slapping handcuffs around his wrist. "James Whitlock, you are under arrest for drug possession, and now for assault," one of the officers growled.

The officer holding James took over reading him his Miranda rights while hauling him a ways off while the first officer turned back to Carlisle. "I'm Officer Marks," he introduced himself. "I understand the Whitlock kids have been staying with you?"

Carlisle nodded. "Yes. Hopefully they'll be staying with me on a long term basis."

"I think that'd be best all around, doc." Officer Marks said tightly. He motioned over his shoulder at James. "As it turned out, Mr. Whitlock here had a large amount of drugs, prescription and otherwise, in the house. We have him on that for now, but we'll see what else we find out."

"You have the photos I faxed you, I trust?" Carlisle asked.

A grimace passed over Officer Marks' face, his tough bravado faltering for a second. "We're going to try to make  _that_ stick for sure. I'll keep you updated."

"I'd appreciate that," Carlisle replied.

Before he headed to his car where James was already in the back seat, Officer Marks paused. "You know - the Chief would be turning over in his grave if he knew what kind of a monster his daughter ended up with. Bella's like a surrogate daughter to all of us on the force. We failed her. We failed all of them."

"He had us all fooled," Carlisle murmured, understanding the regret on the other man's face.

Officer Marks nodded. "Well. You take care of them, Doc."

"You know I will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Are we breathing?
> 
> I know you have questions. They will be answered, hopefully, next chapter.
> 
> I'm thinking I might have to do an outtake detailing some sort of Greek Myth form of torture for James, Felix and Victoria - nothing I ever to do them will be enough - but we'll talk plenty more about them and their fate in the last chapter. I'm hoping to post both the last chapter and the Epilogue by next weekend...but I may be in a Remember Me induced coma. We'll see.
> 
> Thank you to DizzyGrl28 for middle of the night editing, CellaCullen for "flow reading" and JadedandBoring for hand-holding/shoulder crying.
> 
> I'm fairly desperate to know what you thought about this chapter...so...let me know.


	11. Buildings and Bridges

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I apologize in advance if the PoV shift and the infusion of lyrics are off putting. This part of the journey is just extremely personal and I don't know how else to tell it. A lot of my own therapy was through music (hence the Lyrical portion of my name) - so that's the only way I know how to tell this story. Additionally, I am not a psychologist.
> 
> Disclaimer: These beautiful creatures belong to Stephenie Meyer

_**"Buildings and bridges  
are made to bend in the wind  
to withstand the world,  
that's what it takes.  
All that steel and stone  
are no match for the air, my friend.  
What doesn't bend breaks.  
What doesn't bend breaks"** _

_**Buildings and Bridges, Ani DiFranco** _

**Part 1: Carlisle Cullen POV : Safe and Sound**

_"I understand they once controlled you  
Condemned your thoughts and never told you  
Erased your self-esteem and trust  
Stripped down to nothing  
The innocence of a child is forever lost  
And no one can hurt you now  
You're here and you're safe and sound"_

_-Safe and Sound, Godsmack_

I didn't delude myself into thinking that taking in three traumatized teenagers would be easy. When they learned of what my intentions were, people reacted with either admiration or incredulity. Neither were warranted.

I understood why people were surprised, but that frustrated me. I wasn't naive to the world by a long shot. I knew that situations like this, and worse, happened to children all over the world all the time. I knew that people turned their heads, too overwhelmed at the prospect, the sheer enormity of what it took to help someone in this situation. They didn't have the time. They didn't have room in their home or their lives for one more stress. Even those that would have told the authorities what was happening under James Whitlock's roof would likely have left it at that. I knew well enough that there were just as many children lost to a system that was simply too crowded to save every one of them as there were kids who languished with guardians like James.

I knew I couldn't help them all.

The admiration I could do without. Unlike many others, I had the space and all the resources to help these kids. There was really only one right thing to do.

No one could convince me that I hadn't failed these children horribly. Looking back, I saw every sign I needed. James played the part of the caring father so well to my face. We would talk about them, two fathers clucking over the trials and tribulation of raising teenagers. It didn't occur to me until after Edward broke down in my office that James had never done anything but complain about the little hellions they were. He never spoke of any achievements, though I knew Edward was a gifted pianist and both of the boys had been inducted into the National Junior Honor Society. I attributed it to the fact that they were undoubtedly better behaved at my house and probably got into trouble, like all teenagers, more at home.

I should have seen it was the opposite.

You attribute things like Bella's withdrawn silence to the fact that her father died. You see Edward's paranoia and defensiveness as normal, teenage angst. Certainly, Emmett had never been like that, but then Emmett had many friends and his parents hadn't been taken away to jail. You believe them when they smile and attribute broken bones to skiing accidents and stiff walking to overzealous wrestling - boys will be boys.

No, I didn't deserve any admiration. Especially not now. Less than twenty four hours after I promised I wouldn't let James hurt them again they were all in the hospital. Jasper could have been a soldier fresh from the battlefield with a bandage wrapped around his head and his fractured leg. He was still on medication that kept him lethargic so he wouldn't jar his spine.

And Bella. Her face was battered and bruised. God only knew how badly her psyche had been wounded. She wasn't talking to anyone. She panicked easily and hadn't looked anyone directly in the eye since she had looked up to protest being admitted to the hospital the night before.

I shook off the anger and the overwhelming sadness I felt. And the guilt. My God, the guilt was powerful. I don't know that I could have felt worse if I'd been the one to put those marks on their bodies.

I couldn't wallow, I knew I couldn't. Wallowing would have only made me more useless to them and I was through with that.

At that moment, Officer Marks was in their room trying to get their statement. I happened to peer in the window on the door of the room and saw that Bella was visibly upset, though she was trying to hide it. I watched with a twisting heart as her face crumpled. Edward, his eyes fierce, strode from where he had been leaning against the wall and sat beside her, pulling her into his arms. Officer Marks reached one hand forward to touch Bella's shoulder but she recoiled.

Bella's obvious discomfort and Edward's glare sent Officer Marks out of the room, apologizing.

"What happened?" I asked him anxiously as he closed the door.

"Bella started to have a panic attack when I tried to ask her the questions," the officer said, rubbing the back of his neck self consciously. He was obviously not pleased with himself at upsetting her. He sighed. "I don't want to push her, but we need to get as much information as we can while it's still fresh in her mind. Especially if there's anything we can pin on James. I want that bastard put away for as long as possible."

"Excuse me," Rosalie's voice made both of us turn. Her tone was strangely timid, but she had a determined expression on her face. "Officer, you said you and the others have known Bella all her life?"

Officer Marks nodded slowly. "Since she was born."

She looked away, which again I thought was odd. Rosalie had struck me as supremely confident. "The only way she's going to be able to talk about it right now is if she distances herself from the situation. That's nearly impossible to do with family." She looked up, fixing both of us with a pointed look until she was sure we understood before walking away.

"I didn't even think about that," Officer Marks muttered. "It makes sense of course. We're working with the boys from Port Angeles because of James' connections there. I'm sure I could get one of them to talk to her."

Rosalie shook her head. "Is there a female on the force?"

Officer Marks sighed, not at her but at his own stupidity. I was similarly chagrined at myself. It seemed very obvious once she said it. After all, besides myself, I'd made sure only female nurses and doctors had attended to Bella yesterday.

"There's a woman on the Port Angeles force. We can wait long enough to get her over here," Officer Marks amended as Rosalie took her leave.

"It sounds like that would be the best option," I agreed.

He left and Emmett came back just a few minutes later, pressing a cup of coffee into my hands. I thanked him and relayed what had just happened, adding that I was grateful Rosalie had seen that. As I spoke, he crossed his arms, looking again like the sentinel he'd been yesterday when James walked into the hospital.

"Rosalie was raped when she was fifteen," he said, a hard look on his face.

I slammed my coffee cup down with an audible thump. "What?"

"She told me I could tell you. She had an older boyfriend when she was fifteen and one night he and his friends raped her. That's how she knew why Bella reacted that way." I knew I looked devastated because he smiled sadly. "She's okay. I mean, you've seen her. It's been seven years and she's the strongest person I know."

I knew there was more beauty in the world than there was ugliness, but it was days like today when it was hard to remember.

Emmett picked up his coffee cup, spinning the holder around it restlessly. "Maybe she'll be able to help Bella - or at least talk to her."

"Let's hope," I murmured.

Time passed in a blur of conversations with my lawyer, and extremely limited conversations with Jasper, Edward and Bella and a flurry of other people involved in their case. Toward the later afternoon the whole family was gathered in the waiting room that was across the hall from their hospital room. We were talking about mundane things, trying to bring some normalcy back to this surreal day.

"Dr. Cullen, Mrs. Cullen?"

I looked up to find Charlotte Peterson, a counselor that had been brought in to talk to Edward, Bella and Jasper, coming out of their hospital room.

"Come on, Alice," Emmett said, gesturing at his cousin. "Let's go to the store. There has been a severe lack of chocolate and ice cream in this situation and I think we should take care of that right now."

Alice looked skeptical, glancing at Charlotte and back at Emmett, but she finally went to his side. I tossed Emmett a grateful look before turning back to Charlotte. "Please, call me Carlisle. Why don't we go talk in my office?"

The three of us walked to my office and I offered Charlotte my usual chair while Esme and I took my patient's seats.

"I understand that you're adopting all three of them?" Charlotte began.

Esme and I nodded, glancing at each other. My lawyer, Tanya Ivanov, had been a saint so far. She was handling everything with the foster family agency, the city and the state in regards to our adopting the teenagers as quickly as possible.

Charlotte nodded. "That's good. It will go a long way to making them trust you."

"Why would that make them trust us?" Esme asked, perplexed.

"Foster parents are compensated," Charlotte responded. She gave us a tight smile. "I wasn't able to get a lot of information out of them, but they radiate a diminished sense of self-worth. That's to be expected, in this situation. You taking responsibility for them without compensation will help it sink in that they are, in fact, worthwhile human beings."

"They are beautiful kids," Esme said tearfully. I squeezed her hand.

"Yes, of course they are, but they, unfortunately, don't believe that.

"I'd say you're in for a challenging time," Charlotte said, offering us a sympathetic smile. "Right now it's hard to gauge where they're at mentally. All three of them are extremely closed off - but that's because they're protecting themselves in the only way they know how. They are still very much in a survival mode. The fact that you all know what happened to them is giving them the feeling that they're going to be in trouble, even though James is behind bars. Does that make sense?"

"Their consciousness hasn't accepted that yet," I supplied.

"Exactly," Charlotte nodded. Then she gave a sigh. "They won't trust you. Not at first." She looked over at me pointedly. "I know Edward opened up to you, but he was cornered and he was obviously dealing with a situation much larger than he could handle on his own."

"Bella," I concluded. "She's been having a really rough time lately."

Charlotte hesitated, putting her words together carefully. "I questioned Bella briefly about any previous incidents with Felix."

Esme squeezed my hand painfully tightly.

"She denied that anything like this has happened before," Charlotte said carefully.

"But you don't believe her," Esme filled in.

"It's difficult to tell, but I think it's likely she's either lying or repressing past instances. It would explain the depression and the episodes that Bella was having prior to this attack. Either way, it's something you're going to want to look out for," Charlotte continued.

"The episodes of panic, in the closet...do you think that will continue?" Esme asked.

"It's very possible. We don't know what triggered those episodes, so it's hard to say. Felix or James might have been saying things to her that the boys didn't hear. Either way, it's a good idea to be prepared for something of that nature. Bella I'm more worried about in the short term, but they'll all likely have longer term issues. Flashbacks, nightmares, depression...even cutting - self mutilation - is a possibility, if they haven't resorted to that already."

I shook my head vehemently. "No. Edward and Jasper don't have anything like that. No fresh scars. Bella-," I trailed off. It was a possibility and I knew it, but I simply didn't want to think about that right now. It was too much.

Charlotte went over therapy options for the three of them which boiled down to the fact that they most certainly needed it, but it would be useless unless they wanted to be there. If they didn't, it would be just one more thing they did to prove to everyone that there was nothing wrong.

She left with some parting advice."They are older so they need more freedom than a child would, and yet, especially after being left mostly on their own for so long, there's going to be a part of them that craves structure. I would not be surprised if they pushed your limits, and, ideally, you should enforce your rules. Finding the line will be difficult. They're used to relying on themselves for most everything, so you have to walk the line between insulting them and being a good parent."

That evening we took Edward and Bella home. Jasper still needed a little more time to mend before he could be released from the hospital.

Edward and Bella were eerily silent. They ate and murmured polite thank you's and answered yes and no questions, but they didn't interact.

Having figured out that Bella was nervous around him, Emmett had taken Rosalie out to Port Angeles for a little alone time. I imagined that after the relative chaos and upheaval of the last few days, it would be good to get away for a few hours. I regretted that my son had to bring his girlfriend home to this, at Christmas no less, but they were both being extremely understanding about it. When I had expressed this to Rosalie she had shaken her head and smiled, "This is no more your fault than it is theirs, you know?"

I wasn't sure that I did, but I appreciated hearing it nonetheless.

As soon as they'd had a little dinner - very little - Edward and Bella retreated to their rooms on the third floor. Well, they retreated to Edward's room. Edward was obviously not ready to let Bella go and Bella was far from arguing. He was the only person that could draw her out of the haze she was in most of the time, and certainly the only person who didn't make her flinch when he touched her. Alice followed them, and I heard her chattering endlessly, filling in all three of their conversations with musings about how they should decorate their rooms.

"Alice," Esme rebuked gently, "Don't overwhelm them. I'm sure Edward and Bella could use some time to just settle in."

Alice reluctantly followed Esme out their door. As soon as we had reached the second floor she hugged us both. "I just want to get to the part where it's all better. Where they're all better," she admitted.  
Later that evening, when everyone was in bed, I was in my office just trying to process how quickly my life had changed. My head was spinning, vacillating between fear that I couldn't be what those kids needed me to be, frustration at the overwhelming journey we all had ahead of us and the usual helping of hurt and guilt that had become my staple emotion over the past few days. If I was so all over the place, I couldn't fathom what was going on in their heads.

I don't know how long I had been sitting there, staring at the ceiling as if the answers were written in the plaster when I had that feeling that something was watching me. I lifted my head to find Edward's figure in the doorway. He wasn't looking at me but staring at the paintings with a look on his face that indicated he wasn't really seeing any of them. His fists were clenching and unclenching by his side, not in a threatening way, but more in the way one would squeeze a stress ball. The set of his shoulders still carried such defeat. There wasn't a lot I wouldn't give to see that bravado he'd held himself with again.

"Are you alright, Edward?" I asked after he didn't speak for minutes on end. It was a stupid question, and I saw his lips twitch.

He ran his hands through his hair, looking ruminative. He looked down, becoming smaller somehow. "I'm fine. I was just restless. I need to get back before Bella wakes up alone." He turned and walked away quickly.

I debated for a moment, knowing that I needed to be patient and that he would come to me or Esme when he was ready. Then I sprinted quickly after him. "Edward?" I called from the door, catching him before he got to the stairs.

He froze and turned, immediately starting to ramble. "I'll keep the door open, okay? I swear we're not doing anything bad. I wouldn't -. Not right now."

I blinked at him, mentally kicking myself because now he seemed agitated and I wasn't entirely sure what he was talking about. "I just wanted you to know that you can talk to me about anything," I said. "I know you're not doing anything wrong."

He searched my eyes again, the uncertainty and defensiveness radiating from his tense posture and the expression on his face. I hoped he could see I was sincere.

He nodded and turned again, heading back up the stairs. When he was out of eyesight I slumped against the wall and ran my hand over my eyes. Patience. I thought to myself. It was far, far too early to be this frustrated.

A few days passed and Jasper came home. Things got a little better then. The three of them seemed more at peace together. In fact, late on the night Jasper came home, Esme and I climbed the stairs to our room and found the door to Jasper's room open. Esme peered inside cautiously and then her face crumpled slightly, the tears that were becoming all too familiar welling her eyes.

Apprehensive about what I would see, I peered in the doorway. My heart clenched at the sight before me. All three of my new charges were curled up in Jasper's bed. Jasper and Edward were curled on their sides facing Bella, their backs hunched as if they could protect her. Bella and Edward each had an arm wrapped around each other's waists. Her legs were innocently tangled with Jasper's good leg. Jasper had one arm wrapped around her shoulders, the other stretching above his head, similar to Edward. His and Edward's fingers brushed. They were all three touching each other in some way, as if they needed to be sure, even in sleep, that they were together; that they had survived.

I wrapped my arms around my wife and held her close. I thought about my own son, grown now for all intents and purposes, and said a quick prayer of thanks that I had been able to raise him and love him from the day he was born. I thought about Jasper's mother, Bella's father and Edward's parents who had not been afforded the same advantage. I only hoped I could help right this grievous wrong - that Jasper, Edward and Bella had ended up in a home entirely devoid of the love they deserved.

The holiday season passed. Things were better, things were good...but they were also bad and worse.

I tried to concentrate on the good things.

It was good when Emmett's perpetually cheerful attitude had disarmed Bella, and by the time he and Rosalie left to return to the University, Bella was smiling in his presence. It was a small smile, but it was there. She also stepped up to hug him before he left. I thought he was going to push it and sweep her into one of his bear hugs, but he merely squeezed her tightly and stepped away.

It was good when, after weeks of gentle reminders that their rooms were theirs to do with what they wanted, they began to personalize the space we'd given them using the generous allowance we'd allotted them. First, Edward put up a single poster. Then, Jasper put up a handful of books on the bare shelves of his room.

It was great when Bella brought out what was left of her book collection. I knew the significance, and on that day, my heart felt a little lighter.

It was good to see them during moments of levity. With their relationships out in the open, they seemed happier. Neither couple was overt in their displays of affection. Edward and Bella were very chaste, which was understandable given the situation. I was glad that she let him be close with her at all. As far as I knew, they continued to leave the door open on the nights her nightmares wouldn't leave her alone.

Thank God for the good days because the bad days were horrible. Ugly. Heartbreaking.

They all had their individual problems.

We had expected that it would be Edward who would act out the most at home. It turned out to be Jasper who had more of a problem with his temper. At first, he was painfully soft spoken - mumbling so lowly that he had to repeat himself often. That always made him nervous; jumpy. I don't know what happened except that the nerves built in him and became anger. He would snap at anything, he would try to get into shouting matches with me, Esme or Edward. He started pushing the very few limits we had set - breaking curfew, staying up late. Until it became obvious he was trying to push us into snapping at him. He had lived with his father for so long that our reacting with calm and reason - without fists and screaming - was nerve-wracking to him.

Edward's biggest problem at home was the guilt. A month or so after they came to live with us, Jasper knocked on our door frantically one night. He said that Edward was outside and he wouldn't calm down. Indeed, we found Edward out back by the wood pile, flinging the neatly stacked firewood into the trees that surrounded the property. He was obviously worked up, breathing hard and furious. There were tears streaming down his face.

When we finally got him to settle down he confirmed our long held suspicions that Felix had touched Bella inappropriately more than that one time. He said that she was having a nightmare and that she wasn't all the way awake when she'd confessed all the things that had been weighing on her since September. She'd spilled every single secret she'd been hiding since September, including that it was James, not Felix, who touched her first. She'd repeated all the lies they told her about the things she wanted and that she was a whore.

His own self-hatred was hard to shake that night. He felt responsible. He said that he had kept away from Bella for years because he knew that James would use their relationship to destroy her. James hadn't started calling her a whore until after he'd caught the two of them kissing in bed.

After that night, we were definitely on a downhill slope. Anger and guilt ran high between the three of them. Edward was angry at Jasper after the older boy admitted that one of the reasons he'd attacked Felix was because he'd figured out what the hulking man was doing to Bella. With Bella, Edward was guilty to the point where he found it difficult to look her in the eye. Of course, to her, it seemed like her worst nightmare come true - that he was disgusted with her.

Bella withdrew. Edward's bravado slumped. The only positive was that Jasper's anger seemed to abate in the face of trying to comfort the other two.

Things continued to get worse. I was getting afraid of what rock bottom would look like when falling there was already so ugly and utterly exhausting. There were days when I got so tired of the constant pressure on my heart. They were stronger than I ever could be – so much stronger. Here it was, only months later and I was ready to fall apart dealing with just the aftermath of James' abuse. They had lived it for three years. Five, in Jasper's case.

I would have broken.

Then, one night, it was too much.

That day, as far as I understood, Lauren Mallory and Jessica Stanley, who shared Bella's English class with her, had been discussing sex in front of her. They had noticed her get uncomfortable and attempted to draw her into the conversation. When she wouldn't respond, they had started repeating some of the rumors that I knew were rampant – especially at the High School, about her relationship with her former foster father and his friends.

I can't really say that I blamed Edward for reacting the way he did when Angela Weber told him what had happened. He had gotten into a shouting match with the girls and when Tyler Crowley stepped in to champion them, he had gotten into a fist fight with him. Esme had been called to pick them both up – Bella panicking and Edward with a black eye.

Esme and I were discussing it, trying to find an ideal option. School was becoming a torture for Bella, yet to allow her reclusive tendencies seemed counterproductive as well.

Our conversation was interrupted by a God awful shrieking coming from upstairs. We stared at each other in horror for a split second before we both bolted out the door. I took the stairs two at a time, following the shrill cries to Bella's room. I heard Edward's frantic voice calling her name before I entered the room, so I was not surprised to find him there with her.

I stopped short after I came in the door, taking in the scene in front of me in shock. Edward and Bella were both kneeling on the floor outside of her bathroom. She was screaming into his chest and he was trying to calm her. Behind her, the bathroom mirror lay in pieces, glass scattered all over the sink and the floor. At first, I thought it must have been an accident and she had gotten scared when the mirror broke, but then I saw the heavy text book in the middle of the carnage. It looked like she had used the book to break the mirror. She had done it on purpose.

Before I even had a chance to process this, something bumped into me from behind. Jasper ran by me and was on his knees behind Bella in the next instant. He started to rub her arms, murmuring to her with Edward. Esme came to stand beside me, looking horrified and heartsick. Alice tried to go to Bella but I caught her by the arm. I know she wanted to help her friend, but I thought Edward and Jasper were the best bet at this point.

Then, all the energy seemed to drain out of Bella, the angry shrieking turning into pained sobs. They were strong sobs – lifting her entire body away from Edward as she gasped. The two boys kept comforting her as she quieted some.

I took a step forward, at a loss for what to do but needing to do something. Jasper's eyes instantly darted up to mine, wide and full of fear. "Don't! Don't hurt her. She didn't mean it," he pleaded.

I froze. Seeing the look on my face, Jasper blinked and shook his head hard. "Sorry," he mumbled, turning back to Bella.

"Bella," Edward said, his voice quite a bit calmer then it had been a few minutes before. "You have to let Carlisle look at your hand, okay?"

She took several deep breaths, but she eventually nodded her head.

Her right arm had a few superficial cuts that she let me tend. Whatever spell had come over her had been broken, and she apologized profusely about the mirror.

"I've told you before, Bella, it's your room. If you don't want a mirror, you don't have to have one." I hesitated a moment and then decided a little light humor couldn't possibly hurt anything besides my own pride if she didn't think it was funny. "Although, next time it might be a little easier to just ask one of us for help taking it down."

I was rewarded by the tiniest smile, though she still didn't look up. I saw Edward's thumb moving soothingly over her knuckles where he held her hand.

The best she could explain what happened was to say that she had been thinking about what the girls said and it had suddenly gotten very noisy in her head. She said she couldn't think about anything and she just needed it out of her, whatever "it" was.

I spoke to Jasper alone about if he still thought I'd actually hurt Bella. He'd answered hesitantly, the way they all did if they thought they were betraying each other's confidences. "She did the same thing when we were over there," he mumbled. "My father was so mad. He took his belt to her pretty bad that night. I didn't mean to-," he stumbled. "I know you wouldn't do that, but I was scared and I was remembering."

I don't think Esme or I slept that night. There were too many heart rendering images in our heads, not the least of which was the sadness we saw even in Alice. Alice had been doing so well since she came to live with us, but now she often shared her friends' melancholy. I saw the frustration written all over her face when she couldn't help them.

For the first time, I understood why my brother had threatened to send Alice away. He had a responsibility to both of his daughters just as I had a responsibility to all four of the teenagers under my roof. These mental battles were proving so difficult to fight – was it really fair to expose an otherwise happy teenager to this much heartbreak?

But I wasn't going to give up on Bella. She was getting better, she just had bad days. I couldn't imagine how putting her in a hospital would help her.

There was one thing we could try though.

The next evening over dinner, Esme and I spoke to the four of them about moving to Seattle.

Bella was upset. "You can't uproot everyone because of me," she said, her voice horrified and stronger than I had heard it in a long time. "I'm not worth it."

Her words were daggers to my heart and I wished I could hug her, or let her see through my eyes the beautiful, strong girl she was. She saw none of her own strength.

Instead, I said her name and waited until she looked up from under her long lashes. "Your wellbeing, all of your wellbeing, is my top priority. There's no one more important to me than you four, my wife and Emmett. What I want is what's best for all of you."

Bella didn't answer, biting her lip and considering my words. At least she wasn't arguing.

"What about your job?" Jasper asked me quietly. I know he struggled with the idea that Esme or I would do anything for him. He had his own self-esteem problems.

"Let me worry about that."

"You love your job."

"I love you more," I answered automatically. They all three looked back at me with shocked faces and I repressed my urge to sigh in frustration and sadness at their speculative expressions. They wanted to believe it, I could see that.

"Besides," I soothed quickly, "I don't really have problems finding work."

They pushed their food around, considering.

"There's really nothing holding us here," Edward mused out loud. "Even my parents are in Seattle."

"And I'd love to be closer to Emmett and Rosalie," Esme chimed in.

"Alice?" Bella asked timidly.

Alice shrugged. "You guys are the only ones I really care about, honestly. Have you seen me bring anyone else over since I've lived here?" She smiled at Bella and I saw her reach for Jasper's hand. He looked up and smiled back at her.

"A fresh start," Jasper said, sounding much more hopeful about it.

"No more Lauren Mallory and Jessica Stanley," Edward said to Bella, ducking a bit so she would see his gentle smile.

The corners of Bella's mouth turned up slightly. "No more Mike Newton?" Edward grinned lopsidedly and Bella took a deep breath. "Okay."

Of course I was worried that it would backfire. What if the upheaval and change made things worse? But what we had been doing hadn't been working, and I think we were all more hopeful than not that this would be the change we had all been looking for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N : Because I had more story than I thought left to tell, I'm breaking this chapter up into 4 mini-chapters. Carlisle, Jasper, Edward, Bella. Hope you don't mind. It should be less than a week between updates. In fact, if I can swing it, it will be less than a day.
> 
> Again - NOT a psychologist. Also, if you have questions about the adoption thing, I would urge that you save them until after you read Edward's chapter, because he talks about it quite a bit.
> 
> If you're interested in the whole music as therapy thing, I'd urge you to listen to the soundtrack for this story. The link is in my profile. The lyrics are amazingly cathartic and telling, at least to me. Runaway Train still makes me burst into tears (and very few things do).
> 
> Thank you – as usual – to Melly, Cella and JadedandBoring. I love you.
> 
> Let me know what you're thinking.


	12. The Thing I Hate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Talk of suicide. I'm not a psychologist.
> 
> Disclaimer: These beautiful creatures belong to Stephenie Meyer

**Part 2: Jasper Whitlock PoV: The Thing I Hate**

_"You've treated me like I'm a worthless piece of shit  
You think you're in control but you make me sick ...  
...I won't become the thing I hate  
I won't become you "_

_\- The Thing I Hate, Stabbing Westward_

I was fucking tired. SO fucking tired.

I was tired of being scared and jumpy and nervous all the time. I was tired of the anxiety attacks and the outright panic attacks I had occasionally. Despite the fact that my father had been officially sentenced and was serving several years in prison for drug related charges, his presence still lingered at the back of my mind. When I was happy with Alice, I would get this feeling like he was around the corner, waiting to catch us together; I was waiting for him to break it all apart. Whenever I fucked up, I heard his voice in my mind and my body automatically tensed for the inevitable pain that was sure to come. I was tired of the ghost of his influence.

Carlisle and Esme had been trying to get us to go to therapy for months now. I knew I didn't need therapy. There was nothing wrong with me. I just needed to learn to man up and shake off the pathetic moping. The thing was, the three of us had landed on a fucking jackpot and I knew it.

No one had hit me in six months. Carlisle and Esme never so much as yelled at me - even when I deserved it - and I knew I had been a prick to them more than once. Yeah, so maybe my father had overdone it, but they would have been well within their rights to slap me across the face at the very least for some of my childish tantrums. I'd never acted up that way for James. Why I'd found the need to lash out and disrespect them I didn't know. Maybe my father had been right after all - I was just a little shit who'd deserved every beating I'd gotten.

Of course, Carlisle and Esme had tried everything to convince me to at least talk to someone once. They said that maybe I was more traumatized by being thrown down a flight of stairs than I realized. Well, fuck that. It's not like Felix had attacked me out of the blue. I'd flown at him - a fucking monster of a man twice my size. I'd have been an idiot to not expect what I got. Not that he didn't have it coming, mind you; there was no way in hell I would have just let him do what he tried to do to Bella.

I tried to stop him. I really did. Fat lot of use I was to her. All I did was get blood on the floor. Yet again, my father was right. Shouldn't I have been able to at least get a good punch in? Messed his face up a little? Held my own at least long enough that Edward and Emmett would have gotten back before he had a chance to lay a hand on Bella?

Again.

That was how Carlisle and Esme finally convinced Edward and me to go to one session. Just one session, they said. Try it out. If we thought that the counselors were full of shit, we didn't have to go back. At least go for Bella.

Even Edward and I could see she needed to talk to someone. Her depression was out of any of our control. She had failed the last semester and was not doing well this semester either. She got too tired. Even with one of us helping her with her homework, her eyes would start drooping and she would just lose all of her energy. Where she had once been the epitome of a morning person, she was sluggish to get up in the morning, making us late more than once.

It felt like pieces of her were disappearing right in front of our eyes.

So one day in early June, we finally went. Together.

The psychologists were actually a couple - Sam and Emily Uley - who told us we could call them Sam and Emily. Emily had a trio of deep, ugly scars on her face that I'm sure had a story. I found myself irrationally annoyed. As if she'd purposefully gotten hurt like that to one: be able to say she related to the people she treated or two: keep them curious enough to keep coming back long enough to work up the nerve to ask her about it.

In actuality, they seemed pretty cool. They were nothing like the mental images that had popped into my head whenever anyone dropped the counseling word. I'd pictured old and monotone, or a middle aged lady with a perpetually saddened voice, as if infusing her every word with sympathy would make it easier to talk.

Sam had a manner about him that was easy going. He looked like the kind of guy that could coach a pack of hot tempered teenage boys on the weekends. Maybe basketball or something. I could see him running up and down the sidelines shouting out instructions to his team.

He also spouted off some crazy-ass analogies that I could tell irritated the fuck out of Edward.

Emily was definitely a beautiful woman, despite the scars that deformed her face. She had a soft smile that reminded me of a den mother - like Esme.

They started by asking questions.

There were, of course, the ones that I'd been expecting. About my father. About if it still made us angry when we thought about him. If we had nightmares - blah, blah, fucking blah.

Then they asked the one thing I don't think any of us wanted to answer.

Sam looked each of us right in the eye and asked point blank. "Have you ever thought about suicide?"

He had our number, for sure. We all looked down, guilty as hell, and then we all looked over at each other in shock.

Yeah, I thought of suicide. At one point, I thought about it almost every day.

It was worse before Edward and Bella. Back then, I had it all planned out.

I remember, right before the accident, I had heard about a high school kid committing suicide by stepping in front of a train. She was from my neighborhood, and I remember my mother talking about it with a friend of hers. She said the girl was walking along the tracks and the conductor was blowing the whistle frantically but she didn't turn. My mother said that she just stood still, bowed her head, and covered her ears.

For weeks that image haunted me. Then I had other things to worry about.

I can vividly remember the day I thought about her again. I was twelve, almost thirteen at that point and I had been living with my father for maybe nine months or so. I remember I hurt. My body hurt from where my father had hit me. My heart hurt because I'd been missing my mother so much. My head hurt because I just didn't know what to do. Nothing I did ever pleased my father. I could never be good enough or strong enough. I was always fucking up and I didn't know what to do anymore. Everything hurt and there was no relief. I just wanted it to stop. All of it.

And I thought about the train. I thought about the blinding light that would make it impossible to see anything but white. I thought about a noise so great that I'd only hear the train's whistle instead of the chaotic thoughts. I thought about the single moment of impact that had to be worth the inevitable peace that would follow. There's no way you can survive a train barreling into you, right?

Sometimes just the thought of it would help. I didn't even have to write a note. There was no one who would miss me. My father was always telling me how worthless I was. Hell, it'd be doing him a favor not to have a little shit like me in his house. I'd go and walk along the woods near the tracks and when I saw the train coming I'd step right in front of it and then it would all be over.

By the time I was 14, I was almost obsessed with the idea. Something in me acknowledged that it was only a matter of when, not if, I got the balls to do it.

Then Edward was there. I knew he was hurting and I knew he didn't understand. He kept on pushing my father, pissing him off. Then James was hurting him too.

And I couldn't leave him. He needed me.

I didn't stop thinking about it though. Some days, it was harder to resist the temptation. That night, after I told the counselor what my father was doing to us, it took Edward and Bella almost an hour to get me up the stairs. Up thirteen g'damn steps - one hour. I couldn't move very well. I couldn't stand for sure. The whole time I was crying and making the most pathetic noises you'd ever hear because it just  _hurt_ so much. Not even just physically. Not to be melodramatic, but my fucking soul hurt. Soul and body and mind - it was all pain. And I was so tired. For every step we made it up, I felt like I had walked up a pyramid with a brick on my back.

It would have been sweet relief to do it then but I couldn't.

"Down the tracks, not across the street," Bella said suddenly.

Both Edward and I turned to look at her. She wasn't looking up. She was staring at her feet, picking at a stray thread on her frayed jeans.

"Do you want to clarify, Bella?" Emily asked quietly.

She spoke in that robotic, dead voice that terrified the fuck out of me. "I read Slam Book by Ann M. Martin. The girl in that committed suicide. She said that was the right way to slit your wrists. Down the tracks, not across like you see it in movies and on television."

There was silence and I could feel Sam and Emily's gazes on us, just watching for our reactions I suppose. I didn't know what to think. The mental image of finding Bella in a bathtub of bloody water wouldn't leave me.

Then suddenly, Edward spoke. "I used to draw it."

Bella's lips twitched, but she didn't look up, unsure, like I was, what he was talking about.

"I drew the marks down my veins in ink," he muttered. He traced the pad of his finger along his wrist. Down the tracks, just like Bella said. He smiled a humorless smile. "It was never enough. I'd end up…drawing the blood I guess. I'd just bear down with the pen until it was marked up enough that-" He cut off suddenly, his head snapping up as if he'd just realized he wasn't alone.

"That what?" Emily prompted gently.

Edward looked back down at his wrist – smooth and clean and free of so much as a scar. I understood the look on his face - like he wanted to see the pain and poison that flowed through his veins with the blood. He wanted to see it spilling out of him. I understood because I knew that thought - when you felt so wrong inside that your skin was too pristine. "That I stopped wanting it so badly. Wanting to see the blood I mean," he finished.

They let that sit in silence for a moment, and then Sam turned to me. "What about you, Jasper?"

"It's selfish isn't it? Suicide? It's selfish," I muttered, not sure who I was angrier at – myself for feeling weak enough to want it, or Edward and Bella for keeping that from me. I knew I was being a hypocrite, but I couldn't help it.

"I don't know that I really believe that," Emily said thoughtfully.

All three of us peered up, somewhat incredulous.

The kindly woman gave us a small smile as she explained. "You know – the impulse to survive is primitive. It's animalistic. If you put a human being in a situation where they are facing death, they will do things they never thought themselves capable of doing. I saw a movie once - a true story - about a soccer team whose plane crashed in the mountains. They ate their teammates and family and friends to survive. Imagine that."

Emily spread her hands wide as if indicating the sheer enormity of her next thought. "So imagine just how much you must be suffering to not only bypass  _nature,_ but to want to end your life yourself. I think most people understand at least why a very ill person – someone who is in pain with no hope of getting better – might choose suicide. But what about other types of suicide?" She looked up at us, her eyes understanding. "I can imagine that … if I had absolutely no control in my any aspect of my life, if I couldn't stop the pain and I couldn't control the anger…. I can imagine that if choosing the time and the way I died was the one choice I had left, well, I don't know that I think it's selfish to take that final bit of control back."

"That's bullshit," I yelled, having no idea why I was suddenly so fucking furious. "That's bullshit. It's selfish and it's wrong." I was up out of my seat and pacing restlessly. I felt all their eyes on me but I couldn't seem to calm down. "I mean there are people depending on you. There are people who need you. You can't just stop. It will get better. It doesn't matter what it feels like. That's weakness to feel so fucking sorry for yourself that you'd rather die than deal with it. It's pussying out. It's pathetic. I should be able to control this!"

Realizing what had just come out of my mouth, I stopped cold. Feeling tired again, I sank into one of the chairs in the room, my head in my hands because my eyes were suddenly stinging with tears and I didn't want any of them to see. What the fuck was wrong me?

It was Sam's surprisingly gentle voice that broke the silence. "Did you know that people back in the day died of the common flu?"

"What?" My voice was strained with the emotion I was trying so hard to hold back and I hated it.

"The Spanish Influenza killed 50 – 100 million people in 1918," Edward rattled off absently. He did that sometimes – the facts wandering around in his head would just come out at random when he was stressed or trying to distract himself. I looked up and found both his and Bella's eyes on me. They looked sad, but I could see that they understood.

"Exactly," Sam said. "It's just a little flu, but when we didn't have the knowledge and resources to treat it, it was deadly."

My fury flared. "I'm not sick. This is just stupid. I'm just stupid. I should be able to control the…sadness. It's pathetic," I snapped.

"No more pathetic than dying of the flu," Sam insisted.

"It's all in my head," I replied.

"Is your head not part of your body? If some part of you is …unwell, sometimes you need help to fix it. Your mind can break down just the same as the rest of your body. Think about your wrist," Sam said, gesturing to my bandaged arm. At Carlisle's suggestion I'd had surgery on my wrist recently. "You set it yourself as well as you could, and it worked – but if you had been able to go to a doctor, they could have set it correctly. You wouldn't have needed to go through surgery, and I'm fairly sure that it was more painful than absolutely necessary."

I knew the skepticism I saw on Edward and Bella's faces was reflected on my own.

Sam and Emily looked at each other, doing that talking with their eyes thing I'd seen Carlisle and Esme do sometimes. They seemed to come to a decision and turned to us.

Emily spoke slowly, not as if we were stupid but giving us time to process the words - really hear them - as she said them. "I'm going to lay this out for you bluntly. No sugar coating, because the three of you are strong enough to hear this. You've made it this far and I just can't see you giving up."

She looked first at Edward. "The first thing you need to understand is that it is not a weakness to feel the way you do." She turned to me, looking me straight in the eye and I had to struggle to keep her gaze. "It's not a flaw in your character if you want to cry, or if there are things you react emotionally to." She reached forward, putting her hand on the table in Bella's eyesight so she started a bit and looked up. "If you can't get out of bed one morning, that doesn't make you pathetic." Emily gave Bella a small smile and she looked back down, noticeably tightening her arms around her legs.

She sat back and Sam took over seamlessly. "Think about it this way. If you were suddenly paralyzed, you could – with work, effort, and time – eventually do most of the things you could do before. A paraplegic can relearn how to play basketball, and they can get really fast, good, but it's never going to be as easy for them as it is for you, right?"

Not sure where he was going with this extremely random example, I nodded once, seeing Edward and Bella make similar movements out of the corner of my eye. "If James had broken your back, you would not feel you were weak because you couldn't pick up the basketball the next day."

I glanced up, catching Edward's eye and was relieved to see he looked just as confused and overwhelmed as I was feeling. Bella's head was tilted away from me, but she was rocking slightly.

"So," Emily said, "What do you say?"

Carlisle and Esme, who had brought us to the appointment, spoke to Sam and Emily alone for a while after our session. I worried, irritated and paranoid at the thought of the things they might be hearing, but when they came out they were all smiles. It was clear Esme had been crying, but that wasn't unusual for her.

I think we'd caused that woman more tears in the six months that she'd known the truth about us than she'd probably ever shed in her life. I hated it. She was too good to cry like that. I hated being the reason for it - even partially.

They dropped us off at the house and left to spend some alone time in the city. I hated that too. We now lived in a spacious suburb of Seattle. Our house was a little older and huge - again with room for all six of us to have our own space, and then some. Esme had been excited at the prospect of renovating, remodeling and updating the inside. She loved the new house. They should be able to spend time in their own home instead of having to escape to the city just to get a little peace.

When we got home, Alice was waiting for us inside the house. I saw her bright, hopeful eyes darken slightly when she saw the somber look on all of our faces. I sighed and felt the all too familiar anger begin to boil in the pit of my belly. I thought about the beginning – how she had been a light in my life, the hope I didn't know I still had. She was so beautiful; I thought about how desperately I'd wanted to keep her away from the darkness in my life. Now, here it was and all I ever seemed to do was make her sad. She'd cried for us; she'd frowned and worried. There shouldn't be anything to worry about.

I fucking hated this shit.

Alice narrowed her eyes at me and I could see that she was watching the emotions play across my face. She put her tiny hand in one of mine and tugged me closer.

"We'll be upstairs," Edward mumbled, his own hand wrapped with Bella's. They took off without a backward glance. They dealt with their emotions better together.

Alice led me only as far as the living room and pushed me down onto the couch before climbing onto my lap. She put her arms around my neck and laid her head on my shoulder. I nuzzled my nose in her hair, taking deep breaths, trying to forget about everything but soft, gentle, adoring things I felt for the beautiful girl in my arms. I didn't mind those emotions. They were peaceful. They were a hint of rightness when I often felt like I was made of wrong.

"Are you going back?" Alice asked after a moment, her hands beginning to move soothingly at the nape of my neck.

"Yes," I mumbled against her hair. Then I lifted my head so I could speak clearly. "They want us to come in every other week. Once alone and once with all three of us." Even to my own ears, I sounded disgruntled.

There was another long pause as Alice continued to gently rub my neck. It felt good. I tried to concentrate on the way her fingers felt on my scalp instead of the frustration that was screaming for my attention.

"I think that's good," Alice said, uncharacteristically quiet.

Shocked, I shifted her and held her a distance away so I could see her face. "You think I need therapy?"

She watched me with sad eyes and I knew she was trying to formulate the right words. "There's nothing wrong with therapy, Jazz," she said carefully. "If my Momma-"

I shifted her again so she was sitting on the couch and I stood, beginning to pace a little. "I'm not your mother, Alice. There's nothing wrong with me."

She sighed and her eyes followed me as I paced. I could feel the beginnings of a panic attack closing in on me. The agitated, frustrated, angry feeling. The way my chest started to tighten. I knew I needed to calm down but I'd been on edge since g'damn Sam and Emily had started putting ridiculous notions in my head. They'd confused me and made perfect fucking sense at the same time.

There was a huge part of me that wanted to believe this wasn't my fault; the things that drove me crazy about myself - the constant anger and agitation - weren't my fault.

But that was stupid. My fucking father wasn't making me angry. How could he? He was behind bars and I had literally no contact with him. Felix was serving an even longer sentence for attempted rape and attempted murder among a litany of other things. The police had even managed to put Victoria away for a few months for drug possession and trespassing after she'd tried to harass us at school back in Forks.

The fact that Felix and Victoria even existed made my skin crawl and made me want to punch things, but it was me - not them - who screamed at Carlisle and Esme. It was me who broke every fucking rule they laid down. Why did I do those things?

In the space of a second, as I paced furiously, the anger drained from me and left me feeling empty. I felt tears begin to sting my eyes and just like that I was sad. And tired, again. I was so tired of this. A memory flashed through me like lightning. I remembered sitting at the table across from my father in the early days. I didn't remember what it was he was berating me about, but I remember sitting there with my head bowed as he ranted at me. I remembered desperately fighting the tears I knew were about to fall, just like I was doing now.

_He got right in my face sneering that fucking sneer I hated so much. "What, is the baby going to cry now?"_

_I tried. I tried so hard not to cry, but he kept taunting me and tears slipped down my cheeks against my will._

_James swept the chair right out from under me, spilling me to the floor. "You're nothing but a sniveling little sissy," he scoffed as I stared up at him from the floor and I started to cry harder. "Raised by a fucking woman and now you act like one. Pathetic fucking brat."_

"Hey," Alice's gentle, lilting voice called to me. I shook my head once and opened my eyes, feeling the moisture on my cheeks. I let out a shuddering sigh that was a half stifled sob as I found Alice kneeling on the couch. She reached out and wiped away my tears with the back of her little hands. "Jasper, it's okay," she whispered.

I sighed and dug the heels of my palms into my eyes, rubbing in frustration. "Fuck, Alice. I don't know why you put up with me. I-" I started but was cut off when she put her hand over my mouth.

"Stop," she commanded.

I opened my eyes again so I could look at her. "You deserve so much better than me," I whispered as she removed her hand.

" _Stop_ ," she insisted. She got a soft but determined look on her face and she stood up on the couch. "Turn around," she requested.

Even if I'd wanted to, I couldn't have denied her. I owed her everything. I turned around obligingly and felt her arms wrap around my neck and her legs around my waist. I automatically put my hands on her legs, holding her securely to me. "Upstairs," she instructed.

With Alice on my back, her weight reassuring and her head resting on my shoulder, I climbed the stairs easily. Since my room was closest, I walked in there and sat her down on my bed. She grabbed my arm instantly, pulling me down with her. I laid on the bed and she straddled me, laying her head on my chest.

We laid like that in silence for several minutes. I ran my hands up and down her back, occasionally working the tangles out of her hair with my fingers. I wished I could feel like I deserved her. I wished I could be all that  _she_ deserved.

"Did you know that the day I met you and you walked me to class after lunch, I had a panic attack?" Alice asked suddenly.

"What?"

"You can't imagine how nervous I was that day. I wanted so much for you - and Edward and Bella - to like me." She lifted her head. "Back then, I was really insecure about a lot of things. I had panic attacks. I cried – a lot. I'm not as strong as you think I am."

I traced the pads of my fingers down her face. "That's not true. Alice, you're the strongest person I've ever known. I don't get how you do it, really. You're always positive. You're smart and so beautiful."

She kissed my fingers as I passed them over her lips. "That took time, Jasper. It took time and a lot of really hard work." She smiled mischievously. "Except for the smart and beautiful thing. That's all natural."

I laughed. "Damn straight."

Seeing my smile, Alice grinned. She shifted so she could kiss me and I kissed her back, feeling a thin sliver of peace temper my otherwise chaotic emotions. "You were right earlier when you said there's nothing wrong with you," Alice said in between kisses. "You're so much stronger than you give yourself credit for."

I chuffed a little and she broke our kiss so she could give me a pointed look. "I don't know how to believe that when I feel so weak," I admitted.

She considered this for a moment before speaking again. "You know, if you were as pathetic as you think you are, what would that make me for wanting you the way I do?"

"What?" I asked, blinking at the turn in the conversation.

"I love you, Jasper Whitlock. And I happen to think I have very good taste. So…if you can't see it yourself, you borrow my eyes. The things and people I love are beautiful."

Now how could I argue with that?

"I just don't understand," I told Sam several weeks later. "Why now? Everything is okay now. I didn't do the things I do and feel the way I feel when I was living with him."

"Believe it or not , all of the "episodes" as you call them, are good things. They're signs you're healing – beginning to deal with all of the things you kept pent up for so long," Sam assured me. I looked at him, unconvinced. "When you were living under your father's roof, you were trying to survive. It's a very different mentality."

"What does that even mean? It's not as if my life was in danger. He always made sure we had food and water and shelter," I said, rocking back and forth restlessly. That was another thing that was driving me crazy. This nervous energy just set me on edge.

"Minds can snap, Jasper. I know you know this because you were aware of it when it came to Bella and Edward. That's why you did whatever you could to help them when they would go to a dark place after James hurt one of you. That's why you made them laugh or tried to make things easier for them," Sam pointed out. I nodded my acknowledgement, trying to match the confusing things I was feeling to what he was saying.

"Your subconscious is instinctively aware of your mental stability," Sam continued. "When your father began to abuse you, your mind took steps to protect itself. It developed coping mechanisms to push what you were feeling back because it was too much to deal with. As your subconscious becomes more aware that you're not in the same situation, all the emotions you held back start to attack you, for lack of a better word."

"My mind doesn't feel like it's getting better. It feels more … chaotic," I grumbled.

Sam nodded understandingly. "I know it feels that way sometimes, but let me ask you this question. When you told your school counselor about the abuse," he started carefully. I flinched, my mind automatically conjuring bits and pieces of that night. I remembered what it felt like when my wrist had snapped and when he'd kicked me so hard I thought my ribs had cracked. I shook off the memories as quickly as possible and Sam waited a moment while I got my breathing under control. "Why didn't you call the police that night? You must know now that he could have easily killed you, or permanently damaged you, and from what you and Edward have told me about that night. It wasn't exactly something James could have covered up. Why didn't you tell anyone?"

My heart was pounding out of control in my chest and my stomach was twisting. I didn't have an answer. Looking back it seemed stupid, but I didn't think that at the time. At the time, I had almost scoffed when he warned me not to tell Alice anything other than the lie he'd concocted for me. I remembered thinking I wouldn't be stupid enough to tell anyone ever again. "Fuck. I don't know," I mumbled.

"You did what you had to do to survive. The fact that you told anyone at all was amazingly brave - you defeated your own subconscious, instinct, nature, when you did that. Then of course, CPS failed you monumentally. The one time you trusted someone other than you, Bella, and Edward - and they failed you. There was no way you were going to tell anyone because your subconscious had already equated telling to pain; to being broken," he explained, gesturing to my wrist. "Your mind wasn't working in the logical place you're in now. You're healthier. Stronger." He put his hand on the table between us and I looked up at him. His eyes were utterly sincere as he spoke the next words, as if he was trying to get me to believe them. "You  _are_ getting better."

I ran my hands over my eyes. It didn't feel like it, but at the same time I could at least see what he was saying.

"Your conscious and your subconscious are kind of at war with each other right now. The first step to getting to a place where you're at peace is understanding what your mind is doing. You have no control over your emotions, but you do have control over your reactions. It'll be a while before you believe yourself, but each time you're feeling down about yourself, or anything like that, you just remind yourself that your mind did what it had to do to survive. Just think it, for now," Sam said.

"As for the anger – we're going to have to find a way to channel that," Sam said, almost to himself. He looked back at me. "I know you snap at Carlisle and Esme even when you don't mean to. Can you figure out why that is?"

"Because I'm an ungrateful prick?" I snapped automatically.

Sam gave me a look. "Do you feel ungrateful?"

"No," I admitted. "I can't even….what they do for us, everything they've given up for us… Sometimes I wish they wouldn't, because I'm not worth it. Really, what the fuck have I ever done for them? But I am thankful."

Sam nodded. "If you're not 'an ungrateful prick', and you know now that your mind did what it had to do to survive, can you reason out why you might be snapping at your surrogate parents?"

I knew enough about how this therapy thing worked to understand that he was choosing his words purposefully.

The words 'surrogate parents' resonated in me and made me squirm somewhat uncomfortably. I don't know that I thought of Carlisle and Esme as parents. When they'd talked to me about adopting me they had made it seem very logical. The county would have no control over me. There would be no social worker like the one who had visited Edward and Bella on a monthly basis – asking inane questions while they lied to her face. I didn't want to do that. I didn't want Carlisle and Esme to have to deal with jumping through any more hoops than they were already jumping through for us. I didn't want to be separated from Edward and Bella, and the Cullens' home was at the very least familiar. Everything at that time had been unbearably confusing and scary. Scarier, in some ways, than living with James in the first place – because at least we had known what we were dealing with. So I'd nodded my head and let them adopt me.

I rolled the words over in my head again. Surrogate parents. Stand-ins for James and my mother.

The very thought of my father sent a wave of anger crashing over me. My hands tightened into fists, and I made a tentative connection. "You think I get angry at them because of James."

Sam nodded, looking pleased.

"That's stupid. They're nothing like my father," I said vehemently.

"Precisely. Displacement is another defense mechanism. You had to taper down these emotions because any display of anger would never have gone well for you with James. Your subconscious knows that they're safe, and now that you're allowed to feel the anger, and everything else, you're displacing your rage for James on the people who took his place," Sam concluded.

It made sense and it didn't make sense. I ran my hand over my eyes tiredly. "My subconscious is fucking ridiculous," I muttered.

The older man chuckled. "I'm not excusing your behavior," he said sternly. "I think you'll agree that Esme and Carlisle have earned your respect. You need to learn to control your reactions. Just, don't beat yourself up over it now that you know where it comes from. Remember, you can't help your emotions, just your reactions. Try to take a breath the next time you get angry at them. Go beat up a pillow or something. It will take time, but it will get easier."

My thoughts were wry. It will get easier. Fucking when?

June wore on and was heading into July before we met the first of our new neighbors. We lived in a very luxurious neighborhood in Seattle. Even though it was not as secluded as the Forks house had been, there was still an acre or so of land between our house and any of our neighbors, so it wasn't exactly difficult to miss them.

As it turned out, one of our neighbors was none other than Charlotte Peterson, the friendly counselor who had spoken to Bella, Edward, and me when I was in the hospital.

Her husband's name was Peter. They had also named their son Peter. Peter the Younger was our age and had come over to introduce himself one afternoon as Alice and I had been out on the lawn, enjoying a rare sunny day.

"Peter Peterson?" I couldn't help but ask. "That's child cruelty is what that is. Your mother is busy trying to fix other kids and look what she's doing to you!"

Peter grimaced. "It's a family thing. I'm the fifth generation of Peter Petersons."

I looked at him in vague horror. "Break the cycle man!"

He laughed. "I'm planning on it."

When he walked away, I found Alice staring at me.

"What?" I asked, instantly self conscious.

"Do you realize you're usually painfully shy?" Alice asked quietly. "I've never seen you just…joke with a stranger."

I was startled. I had been nervous when he first walked up, instantly wary as I always was with new people. I had been watching him, waiting for the inevitable once over people always did when they saw the scars that marked the skin of my forehead and chin. Peter had looked me right in the eye though, and then when he'd said his name I'd just been amused.

But Alice was right. The shyness had slipped away and I hadn't even noticed.

It was small, but it was tangible. It was the evidence I needed to prove to myself that I was getting better.

Of course for every small victory, there were a slew of defeats to deal with. Most of them were little things and I tried to just breathe through them until the anxiety that plagued me subsided.

Emily and Sam had gotten us all on some type of anti-depressant or another – each of our medications was different – and that did help. My moods didn't swing quite so wildly. I rarely felt the extremes of any emotion. Before, it had felt like I could fly apart at the seams when I got angry or frustrated. I felt like I would drown under the weight of the anxiety or the sadness that swept over me. I still felt those emotions, but they were easier to deal with. Manageable.

Most of the time.

It was July and I was in Sam's office again. I was a wreck, pacing back and forth like a wild animal. I was frustrated and terrified.

The previous day I had been over at Peter's house with Alice. He had invited us over after a conversation we'd gotten into about music. He had a guitar and I was trying to find something to do – some way to channel my energy, as Sam would say. Bella had her books. Edward had his piano. I was searching for something.

As it turned out, Peter had a 12 year old brother named Riley. Riley quite obviously idolized his older brother. He wouldn't leave us alone. He was more than a little obnoxious. As the afternoon wore on and he continuously interrupted conversations, made dumb jokes and was generally all around annoying, I found myself getting irrationally angry.

Then I had snapped. "Would you go the fuck away, you little shit?"

The moment the words left my mouth I had been sorry. I stuttered apologies to the wide-eyed pre-teen and Peter and I'd practically sprinted out of there, Alice following behind me.

No one could calm me down that night.

From my sessions with Sam and Emily, I had started to accept that the way my father treated me had little to nothing to do with me. James treated me the way his father had treated him and so on.

It was easy to see myself as different from my father. I still had problems not seeing all my weaknesses, but I wasn't cruel. It was easy to think about a future – about having children of my own – and feel sure that I would never so much as think of raising a hand to them.

Riley was the first kid I'd really had contact with in years. He had gotten under my skin in the space of a couple of hours.

Now I paced across Sam's office as my fears overwhelmed me.

"Of course it's ingrained in you," Sam said calmly, watching my movements with just his eyes as he sat in his usual seat. "Everything you experienced for five years taught you that this is how you treat people who are below you – figuratively speaking."

"Fuck," I mumbled. That was exactly the opposite of what I'd wanted to hear. I didn't want to be him. I hated him – my God, how I hated him. I was fighting wanting to hate myself on a weekly basis and I didn't need one more reason to-

"Jasper," Sam called gently. I stopped my frantic pacing when he called my name again. I looked at him. "Do you want to know the difference between you and your father?"

I didn't answer, I just stared at him and so he continued. "Your father is weak and you are most definitely not."

I chuffed, wondering who he thought he was kidding.

"Have a seat. I need your ears all the way open for this one, kid," he said firmly. I growled in frustration but I sat. "It is far, far easier to lash out at someone – let your emotions control you – than it is to control yourself. Your father was no better than a child throwing a tantrum in a store. He lashed out at you whenever the world didn't match up to his own standards.

"Yes, you lashed out – but look at you. You realized what you did and you apologized, and now here you are. You're taking complete responsibility for your actions – a strength your father will never have," Sam said slowly, his voice infused with sincerity. "You are already so much better than him, Jasper. You want to unlearn the way he taught you to be. That takes an incredible amount of strength. It would be weaker, and so much easier, to just shrug your shoulders and forget to feel bad about what you said to that kid."

I studied my shoes and I rocked back and forth slightly – the nervous energy back with a vengeance. As usual, Sam's words made sense, but I didn't feel them. The subconscious was a hell of a thing. Taking control of something you couldn't see was ridiculously difficult.

"Jasper," Sam said quietly. "Look at me."

I sighed and looked up reluctantly.

"You will not become your father."

I wondered if he had any idea how desperately I wanted to believe him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This "chapter" is turning out a lot longer than I had expected. Seems the kids had a lot to say.
> 
> Special Note: My girl, JadedandBoring has a very amazing fic The Kübler Ross Model. It is the second round of the Indie Twific Awards. KRM is in two categories (AH Story That Knocks You Off Your Feet (Complete) and Best Secondary Characterization). You can vote by following this link: (d0t)
> 
> It's an amazing story and its sequel is currently completely blowing me away.
> 
> To my reviewers – seriously, you make me cry. You amaze me. You make every step of this journey fucking worth it and I love you.
> 
> Keep letting me hear from you.


	13. Rearview Mirror

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: I'm not a psychologist.
> 
> Disclaimer: These beautiful creatures belong to Stephenie Meyer.

**Part 2: Edward Masen PoV: Rearview Mirror**

_"Head at your feet. Fool to your crown._

_Fist on my plate. Swallowed it down.  
Enmity gauged. United by fear.  
Tried to endure what I could not forgive. Yeah.  
Saw things...clearer  
Oh, once you were in my Rearview mirror."_

_\- Rearview Mirror, Pearl Jam_

I laid in bed in the darkness just waiting.

It was nights like tonight that I wished Jasper still shared the room with me. I didn't realize how comforting it was to hear his breathing in the stillness of the night until it wasn't there anymore. At first it just made me feel alone. I'd had to beat back the impulse to go to his room. What was I going to do - climb in bed with him? It was one thing when it was all three of us - as it had been the first couple of weeks we lived in the Cullen's' house. I just couldn't justify going there alone.

James' frequent taunts about Jasper and my sexuality rang in my mind and I banged the back of my head against my pillow in frustration. I didn't need that fucking prick's voice in my mind right now. I was already ten shades of emo and I didn't need to add pissed the fuck off to my array of negative emotions.

I was waiting for it, but the weight on my chest tripled to the point that I had to gasp for breath when I finally heard it.

A terrified scream came from Bella's room.

The weight on my chest pinned me to the bed for a moment and I closed my eyes. I couldn't breathe and my heart just ached. I knew she would have nightmares tonight and I wondered if I was in them. After all - this nightmare was my fault. In more ways than one.

She had been so happy today. It had been one of those rare days when all of her defenses were down. She still slept too much - whiling the whole day away in bed if we let her, so we tried to keep her active. Late this morning I'd tugged her foot out from under her blankets to tickle it and she woke up giggling. Smiling. She actually ate the stack of pancakes Esme set in front of her and an orange on top of that.

It had been a good day for all of us. It wasn't raining, and even though it was still cool outside, Emmett had nagged Jasper and me until we followed him outside. The three of us and Carlisle played a few rounds of basketball while the girls vegged out - Rosalie and Alice having insisted that Bella be introduced to Firefly and "Captain Tight Pants", whatever the fuck that meant. All I knew was that when I ran inside to grab a bottle of water, Bella was laughing at the screen. She was sitting on the ground between Rosalie's legs as the older girl brushed her hair out. Alice was lying on the ground with her feet on Bella's lap. They all looked relaxed and comfortable.

Everything about that day was just so fucking normal. For once, all the tension was missing. I didn't feel awkward or nervous or anxious. I'd figured out I was faster than Emmett, so I could get around him easily and get to the basket before he caught me. It was a natural high - the swish of the basketball hoop; hearing Emmett swear as I made another point. The only tense moment came when Emmett razzed me and I razzed him right back. I froze automatically because even though it was lighthearted, Emmett was bigger and older and part of me knew he could fucking hurt me.

But Emmett had grinned and thrown the ball back at me. "Big talk Masen, let's see you get around me again!"

By the time a pizza delivery person pulled up to the house with a metric shit ton of pizza, wings and bread sticks I felt lighter than I had in years.

I don't really know what I was thinking. I saw Bella step out onto the porch with her hair all done up and a smile on her face and my heart just felt - healed. The weight that rested on my chest every single moment of every day lifted noticeably, replaced by this overwhelming feeling that was...all good, and all for her.

So I ran at her. And I swept her over my shoulder.

I was being playful, but suddenly the peace of the afternoon was shattered completely.

She screamed.

By the time I set her down she was in the middle of a full blown, terrifying panic attack.

It had taken me a while to figure out what things  _always_ set off her panic attacks or just made her anxious. Mostly, they were the same things that set all three of us off - if we fucked up and dropped something, if one of them - Carlisle or Emmett especially - stood over us, that kind of thing. She also got anxious if anyone stared - even me. If she was in a room alone and one of us came to stand in the same room without speaking she would get extremely nervous. She didn't go into any small room where she could be cornered easily.

I tried to be careful. She was getting better, we could all see that, but she didn't need any setbacks. As it was, Felix's trial in February had sent her into a downward spiral that had fucked up yet another semester of school. Bella was a full year behind us and we didn't really know the best way to help her there. She just got too exhausted. We all tried to help her, but it wasn't as if she was failing because she was struggling with the material, math aside. During the school year she hadn't completed most of her homework and she found it difficult to concentrate while she was actually in class. Her concentration and exhaustion had been better since we'd been going to see Sam and Emily and we'd all been put on medication. Bella wanted to get to the point where she would be able to do a few correspondence or night school courses in addition to going to class normally.

She was working so fucking hard to get better. I absolutely loathed being the one to drag her down.

Frustrated with myself, I wiped angrily at the tears that stung my eyes. I was through being useless to her. Crying like a fucking baby when she needed someone wasn't going to help anyone.

I just hoped I could still comfort her.

I got out of bed and went to her room, opening the door. As I expected, her bed had been stripped of the comforter and blankets that were usually there. The light from underneath the door to her closet was on. Not trusting myself not to scare her again, I got on my knees before I opened the door.

Despite the fact that her walk-in closet was large enough to comfortably sleep her, me and Jasper (and it had a couple of times), whenever I'd found Bella in there since we moved to Seattle, she was always curled up against one of the walls - packed into as tight a space as possible. I knew she was awake because she was crying into her pillow. In the midst of her nightmares she tossed and thrashed uncontrollably. Whenever she woke herself she would bury her head in her pillows, wanting to keep us from hearing her.

"Bella," I called quietly, not wanting to scare her further. She gasped anyway at the sound of my voice and pressed herself further against the wall. My heart gave a painful lurch, but it only lasted a second before her body visibly relaxed. "Are you-," I sighed, because of course she wasn't okay. "Can I come in?"

I was surprised when she growled into her pillow - an angry, frustrated sound. Her voice was scratchy when she spoke, but not as disheartened and broken as I was used to hearing her after one of her nightmares. "Yes."

She didn't turn to me, so I laid down behind her, keeping a careful distance between her body and mine. I wanted to pull her into my arms, but her posture was tense. She sniffled, obviously trying to calm down, and I wasn't sure what to do. Was she angry with me? She had every right, of course, but it wasn't like her. "Bella-," I started again, but she interrupted me with a definite angry cry as she hit her pillow repeatedly.

"I hate -," she tried, but she was cut off by her own tears. She hit the pillow again.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, totally heartbroken for her pain and at a loss for what to do.

"For  _what?_ " she exploded. She rolled over to face me. Her eyes were red and her cheeks were streaked with tears, but she looked livid. "You didn't do anything wrong, Edward."

"I should have-," I started but again she interrupted me.

"No! I fucking hate this. I hate it. Everyone was normal for once. Everyone was happy. I was happy. I hate it because it never stays like that. And then everybody thinks they have to go around with those soft voices - 'let's all walk on eggshells so we don't upset fragile Bella'," she snarled. The livid glare fell from her face. "I hate that I ruined everyone's day."

"You didn't ruin anyone's day. I was the one who was stupid," I said morosely.

"You didn't do anything!" she repeated, exasperated. "If you had a normal girlfriend, Edward, what was the worst that would have happened? Maybe she would have gotten pissed at you like some girly girls do at that kind of thing. But no - you have me who totally flips out on you. _You_ Edward. I know you would never, ever hurt me like-,"

Her voice cut off in a wheeze, all the color draining from her face. Her eyes fluttered, and I knew her thoughts had drudged up some horrible memory. Quickly, I reached forward, cupping her face in my hands and stroking her cheek. "It's okay," I murmured, watching her carefully to make sure she'd calmed before she slipped into a full blown attack.

After a few minutes her breathing slowed. She opened her teary eyes and I could see the sadness I was used to was back. "How is this going to work?" she asked in a whisper.

"What?" I asked, uncertain about what she was talking about.

"You and me," she mumbled, closing her eyes again.

My heart sped and a fist seemed to clench around my lungs. "What do you mean?" I asked carefully, trying to keep the edge of panic out of my voice.

She sniffled before answering. "I know we haven't had the best examples, but couples should be equal." She opened her eyes, her voice so much smaller than it had been only minutes ago. "I can't always be weaker than you, Edward."

"Bella," I whispered to her, stunned and at a loss to explain how mind-bogglingly wrong she was. "You aren't weak."

She gave me a look. "You're talking to a girl who stuffs herself into a corner of a closet, you know that right?"

I sighed and stroked her cheek. "You've never been weak."

"I've  _always_ been weak," she argued. "From the first day, the first time, I've been weak. Why else would you and Jasper always have felt like you needed to protect me? You always get in trouble because of me – with James or at school. F-Fe-," she cut off again, closing her eyes tightly. " _He_ could have killed Jasper because Jasper was trying to protect me."

"You can't tell me you wouldn't have done the same thing, Bella. You  _have_ done the same thing. You tried to get between James and both of us a few times." I winced as I spoke, remembering. "James was different with you."

She was quiet, but I could see the fury and frustration in her eyes. I tried to beat my own frustration back. "Bella, listen to me, okay? You're not weak. You know you can't help what your mind is doing. It happens to me and Jasper, too. You remember? Jasper was roughhousing with Emmett just a few days ago and he had a panic attack. And I've even freaked out on Esme a few times." I frowned slightly. Suffice to say Victoria's influence hadn't gone unnoticed by my stupid fucking subconscious.

"Not like this," she retorted bitterly.

"We don't have to deal with the same things you have to deal with. It's not your fault. It's not like you asked for what they did to you, Bella."

She shuddered noticeably and I moved closer to her, watching her body language to make sure she was okay with how much I was in her space. I stroked her cheek, hoping she could see how much I loved her and how much I thought she was stronger than anyone I'd known. She searched my eyes in silence for a long while. She must have found something she was looking for because she shifted and threw the blankets she was wrapped in over me so it covered us both. Relieved, I put my arms around her, drawing her close to me.

"It's not your fault either, Edward," she said softly, breaking the silence after a few minutes.

She didn't wait for me to respond, and I was glad because I couldn't quite agree with her. Instead, she leaned forward and put her lips to mine. Neither of us moved, waiting to see if she was comfortable. I felt her lips tug up into a smile and then I was smiling too. It had been so long since we'd just been able to...make out.

Like normal teenagers.

Our lips moved together, soft and slow like the first time, until we both fell asleep.

It probably came up because it was weighing on me so heavily, but the subject of how responsible I felt for the things that happened to Bella was discussed at our next group session with Sam and Emily.

Bella was huffy about it and immediately tried to say again that it wasn't my fault. I didn't look at her and Emily requested her silence. I waited, fully expecting them to tell me that I shouldn't have put Bella in that position – I shouldn't have let us get caught making out in her bed in the middle of the night.

Instead, Sam turned to Jasper. "Jasper, would you mind telling Edward how you felt when your father first brought up the subject of taking him in as a foster child?"

What the hell?

Jasper blinked at Sam, obviously just as stunned as I was that the spotlight had suddenly been shifted to him. He looked at me hesitantly and then down at his feet. "Everything is my fault. I told him how to do it," Jasper mumbled.

"What do you mean everything is your fault?" I snapped, a little harsher than I intended.

"If I hadn't told him about my mother's work…when he saw you that night, he wouldn't have even thought about it. It's my fault that he brought you to live with us in the first place," Jasper said in a quiet voice. He had crossed his arms and hunkered down on his end of the couch.

I was pissed. "That's stupid. It's not your fault. You didn't make him do the things that he did."

I stopped talking suddenly, repeating the words in my head, then I turned to glare at Sam.

That sly mother fucker.

"That's different," I said automatically.

"How do you figure?" Emily asked pleasantly. "Logically explain to me how you're responsible for the things your foster father and his friend said and did to Bella."

I opened my mouth, but my arguments suddenly sounded stupid. I snapped my mouth shut again and grimaced.

Emily saw my expression and nodded. "Edward, getting caught making out with your girlfriend is almost a prerequisite of being a teenager. James' reaction to it was out of line. That was not your fault. Anymore than Jasper talking to his father about his mother's work was his fault," she finished, giving Jasper a pointed look to be sure he understood what she was saying.

They could say whatever they wanted, but what my head was thinking alleviated none of the guilt I felt. I could have stopped it from ever happening. It was just something I knew in my bones.

"What the fuck is the point of this if all I feel is more confused?" I grumbled.

Jasper and Bella chuffed their agreement. Sam and Emily just smiled sympathetically at us.

"This is your brain," Sam said, grabbing a ball of yarn from a basket that was by his and Emily's chairs. He grabbed out another mass of yarn that was tangled and snarled and generally a mess. "This is your brain during therapy. Any questions?"

We all glared at him, even Emily, but I was vaguely amused.

"How long have you been waiting on that one?" Jasper asked.

Sam grinned. "Man, you have no idea."

I thought for sure that Sam was going to talk about all my guilt when it came time for my one on one session, but instead he started rambling on about my parents.

"What the fuck are we talking about them for? They didn't do anything to me. They're good people!" I found myself yelling at him.

"I didn't say any different," Sam said patiently.

"Then why are you talking about them?" I persisted. "They didn't fuck me up. Fuck, I'm not even sure James fucked me up. Maybe I was born this way and I should stop blaming him for all my problems and just get over it."

Sam raised his eyebrows. "Let's shelve that comment for a moment and go back to your parents. Do you really hold them blameless for your current state of mind?"

"They never even hit me," I practically growled. My irritation was building.

"You do realize that the minute I said your parent's names you took on a defensive posture and tone, right?" Sam asked.

I noticed then that my arms were crossed painfully tight and my legs were drawn up as much as they could be without actually being on the couch. Self-conscious, I unwound myself.

"When I started asking about them, your temper flared. But I didn't ask anything about them except what you've talked about lately," Sam continued.

My temper flared again. "And?"

"And - why did you assume I was insinuating they'd fucked you up in some way?"

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh, my mistake. I thought this was therapy. Are Carlisle and Esme just paying you because they think I need friends?"

He waited a moment. I bit my tongue to keep from slinging irrational bits of venom in his direction. "Count. It helps," he reminded.

"Maybe it would help if you would just be fucking straight with me too," I grumbled.

"Fair enough," Sam conceded. "Tell me the truth. Why does the subject of your parents piss you off?"

"Because it was stupid. They'd never done anything wrong in their lives and they had to do that?" I spat. "Do you know what my mom yelled as they were handcuffing her and taking her away? She yelled that she just wanted me to go be able to go to college. See, she'd saved up all this money so I could go to college, and then the IRS hit us really hard and she had to use it all, and we lost everything. So they threw their lives away - and for what? I wasn't worth it to begin with," I ranted.

"Is that what James told you? That you weren't worth it?" Sam asked quietly after a moment.

With a growl of frustration I stood. I just couldn't be still. "Yeah," I said wryly. "And I fucking hear him in my head every day. 'You know your parents are rotting away because of you and thinking that you weren't worth it'," I mimicked James' words. "I know what you're going to tell me - that it's a bullshit thing to think."

"I don't think those are precisely the words I would have chosen. Do you believe what James told you is true?"

I shook my head. "It shouldn't be affecting me this way in the first place. I knew he was full of shit. I knew from day one that the things he said were lies. He's no better than a playground bully," I ranted, pacing with my hand running through my hair restlessly.

Sam didn't even move. Only his eyes followed my path back and forth. It was kind of creepy. When I had run out of words, he took a breath. "Do you know what S.I.D.S. is?"

What the fuck. Here we go again. "Sudden infant death syndrome."

He nodded. "You know, it's speculated that a lot of unexplainable infant deaths result from the fact that the parents place the babies on their tummies. A baby's neck is weak. They can't move it on their own, so they suffocate just because they can't turn their head."

Creepy. "What's your point?" I asked, borderline exasperated.

"Would you blame the baby because he should have been smart enough to turn his head?"

I flopped back down on the couch and pinched the bridge of my nose, doing the counting exercises he'd suggested because I knew damn well that I shouldn't snap at Sam for irritating me to death with musings about dead babies. When I opened my eyes he looked pleased. He knew what I was doing. I rolled my eyes. "I wasn't a fucking baby. I was thirteen."

"You were ill equipped to face that kind of mental barrage without being affected," Sam responded easily. "I'm sure you've heard that teenagers are very impressionable. This is true. But even if you weren't at that age, your mind can be conditioned. You hear that you're worthless often enough and your consciousness will begin to believe it, even when your logical mind knows better."

There was a pause and I rocked restlessly back and forth slightly.

"It's perfectly understandable to be angry at your parents too, you know," Sam suggested, his voice quiet and unassuming.

"No it isn't." Even to me my voice sounded defeated. Fucking mood swings were going to give me whiplash I swear to God. "I have no reason to be angry at them. They should be angry at me."

"Why is that?"

I paused, the thought that had been nagging at the edge of my conscience finally coming out. "I betrayed them didn't I? When the judge was deciding whether or not to terminate their parental rights so Carlisle and Esme could adopt me, the judge asked me what I wanted and I chose strangers over them. If that doesn't make me a worthless son, I don't know what does."

"What have your parents said about it?" Sam prompted.

I sighed. "I didn't tell them that the judge asked me. Carlisle and Esme went to see them, though, after the judge terminated their rights. My dad said 'I guess we're no good to you in here' and my mom cried. But she knew Esme from before, and I think she liked Carlisle." I picked at some lint that was ingrained on the couch distractedly.

I didn't look up but I could see out of my peripheral vision that Sam was wagging his pen in the air the way he did when he was thinking about something before he spoke. "Edward, your parents had a responsibility to you - to ensure that they were there to raise you and love you. Even with only that, you have every right to be angry that they failed you. Then you spent the next three years in an environment that was totally without any sort of guidance and stability. Your parents not only can't provide you with what you need, but it was their own bad decisions that lead to that situation.

"I'm not telling you to hate them, I'm just urging you to let them shoulder their share of the responsibility." He looked over at the clock then and scratched his head. "Why don't you work on seeing if you can forgive yourself for wanting to let Carlisle and Esme provide you with a loving, stable home? It doesn't negate your love for them or theirs for you after all."

I stood, my head too full and my heart too heavy. Sam clapped my shoulder comfortingly. "Start there and we'll have to work our way up to how responsible you feel for Bella," he said.

My head snapped up to look at him, surprised.

Fucking therapists and their ulterior motives.

It was approaching August when Carlisle called Jasper and me into his office. Jasper and I sat across from our surrogate father and for a long while there was silence. Carlisle rocked back and forth slowly in his chair, his hands steepled and his brow furrowed in thought. I squirmed uncomfortably because I knew that look. It was the same look he'd had on his face the night after I'd punched Tyler Crowley at the end of the school year. I glanced at Jasper and saw that he was similarly twitchy. He'd probably seen that face more often than I had.

You know, the ironic part was that doing something that disappointed Carlisle and Esme made me feel truly sorry that I'd fucked up. With James, I just felt like an idiot. Afterward, I'd always cursed my own stupidity because, when I thought back on it, I could have avoided his wrath if only I were more careful. But I'd never truly regretted the things I'd done to make James hurt me.

One of the duties of a parent, Sam had told me, was to guide their child toward making the right decisions; teach them how to deal appropriately with whatever life would hand them. The problem with some parents was that this task was frustrating and the method they used was force. Fear and pain conditioned a mind without teaching the lesson.

Carlisle and Esme could make me see the error of my ways in the space of one look. The irony came in because now, when I was doing something stupid, I usually couldn't stop myself, even when I wanted to.

I was trying though. I was trying really hard to control my reactions. As I waited for Carlisle to speak, I wracked my brain, trying to figure out what I had done lately that would have caused this reaction in him.

"I'm sorry," I finally blurted when the apprehension became too much.

Carlisle stopped rocking and looked up at me. "What?"

"Whatever I did, I'm sorry. Will you just tell me, or yell at me, or whatever you need to do? Because seriously - this waiting is killing me," I blurted.

"I'm sorry," Carlisle said quickly. He sighed, wiping a hand over his eyes tiredly. "I didn't mean to give you the impression you've done anything wrong. You haven't. Neither of you have."

"First I want to make sure you know how proud I am of both of you, and Bella too. I know it must not feel like it, but you've all come really far." The sincerity in his eyes was always so hard to argue with. I could tell by the look Jasper gave me that he didn't quite agree with Carlisle either, but at least we could see that he believed it.

"School starts back up at the end of August. You know Bella wants to go, and I think it would be best for her if it worked out," Carlisle continued. I found myself nodding fervently in agreement. Bella was acutely aware of every part of her that wasn't normal. Just imagining the look on her face as Jasper and I went off to school like every other teenager while her anxiety forced her to stay home broke my heart.

"I want to do everything I can to make sure things go as smooth as possible for all of you. Sam and Emily suggested that we enroll Bella in a self-defense course. I think it's a good idea in general and it will help her feel less helpless," Carlisle said. He leaned back in his chair. "But you know as well as I do, she probably wouldn't go unless you all went."

"She doesn't like to be singled out," Jasper murmured.

"Exactly. And I do think it's a good idea for you two to know how to defend yourselves. It's a skill we should all have," he paused.

"The course that seems to be the most effective is a combined martial arts course. Now, you two have been doing very well at getting your anger under control, but you've both had some experience at how kids at school might react to the three of you. Tempers fly very quickly, and if you use the skills you would learn in anger instead of defense, things could get much uglier than a simple school fight very quickly," Carlisle said slowly.

I looked down, feeling shitty. Carlisle had done nothing but help us. I'd bet he hadn't had to worry about Emmett going off the deep end.

"Edward. Jasper," Carlisle called our names and waited until we looked up. "I trust you. If you tell me that you can handle it then I will believe you."

I was surprised by the surge of happiness that coursed through me when he said the words 'I trust you'. Christ, what was that about?

Shaking off the odd sensation, I thought about how uncontrollable my temper had been. I made myself think of how upset I got when Bella was upset. I thought about the words Tyler had said to make me start punching him at the end of the school year last year.

When I thought the words I could feel the anger rise in me instantly, but it wasn't the uncontrollable rage it once had been. It was definitely there, but I felt like it would be controllable. Of course, in the heat of the moment how could I be sure?

But then I thought about how often and how desperately I'd wanted to protect Bella and Jasper both in the last three years. I thought about every time I'd only barely held myself back from rushing at James – because the few times I had not only had I gotten my ass kicked but it had made it worse for them.

I could protect them if I knew how. I could protect myself. From the people who could actually hurt us. Bad people like James and fucking Felix – not teenage assholes like Tyler Crowley and Mike Newton.

I looked up at Jasper and he nodded his head slightly. I turned to Carlisle. "You can trust us."

It was a few days before school was going to start up again and I was in my room, fiddling with the new Black Berry that Esme had finally convinced me it was okay to buy. I was beginning to remember that mothers seemed naturally equipped with a manipulation gene. She pulled the whole 'it has a driving directions application so I won't worry that you'll get lost'.

Yeah, because I went so many places.

I still wasn't used to or entirely comfortable with the insane amount of money Carlisle and Esme spent on us. They claimed they weren't spoiling us because they left it up to us to use the allowance they claimed we earned by doing our chores to buy ourselves whatever we wanted. They just provided the necessities.

Right. Because most teenagers got fucking Volvos on their birthdays like I had.

They claimed Jasper's car was on its last legs – which was true – and the Volvo was safe, and even though they'd gotten it on my birthday, we could all share it. My real gift was an amazing keyboard – you know, because the piano wouldn't fit in my room.

Christ.

It was just so weird. My iPod was pretty much the only thing I owned before that ever felt like mine. It took me a while to figure out that it made me nervous to own anything; to get attached to anything physical that could be destroyed at some asshole's whim.

Then I had realized that it made Carlisle and Esme happy to give us these things. I realized that, while it was true their gifts were quite a bit more lavish than your average teen got, they were just doing their jobs as parents. I remembered my mother's heartbroken face when she'd had to sell the small upright piano that I loved so much when I was a kid. She had wanted to fuel my creativity. Esme and Carlisle were just picking up where my parents had left off.

I think I almost burst into tears when I figured that out. Fucking mood swings….

My thoughts were interrupted by my bed dipping the slightest bit. I put my new crackberry down to see Bella at the foot of my bed. She was chewing on her bottom lip as if she was deep in thought.

"Bella?" I asked, wondering if there was something wrong. Old, old habit had me automatically scanning her for any signs of marks, even though it had been so many months.

She didn't say anything, but she got this look in her eyes that I couldn't quite read. I didn't have time to think about it because in the next moment she was climbing over me. She straddled my torso in a way that made me instantly nervous because I had a brief flash of James pinning me down that way right before he poured that fucking ipecac in my mouth. The memory faded quickly though because I was suddenly enveloped in Bella's scent – flowers and girl. She leaned down and started kissing me without saying a word.

Whoa.

Good surprise. I kissed her back and then things quickly started getting heated. Her hands were in my hair and it felt amazing. My hands ran up and down her back, alternately feeling her and pulling her closer to me. God she felt good. She was rounding out again, and all her subtle curves were coming back. She had gotten so skinny those last few months at James', but Esme took a lot better care of her than Jasper or I could, and she made sure Bella ate a lot better. It was paying off. Bella was still too skinny but definitely a lot more healthy than she had been.

She felt fucking amazing.

Bella's kisses became a lot harder and a memory tickled at the back of my mind.

The night we'd had lost our virginities was the last time Bella had been aggressive.

Fuck. I wasn't supposed to let her use me when she was feeling out of control. It wasn't healthy for either of us. That meant I had to stop this until I was sure she was doing it just because she wanted to – not because she was trying to prove anything to herself.

Fuck. My. Life.

I moved my hands up to her face, cupping it and stroking her cheeks as I pulled her head gently away from mine.

"Bella," I said breathlessly.

I searched her eyes and saw it when she realized what she was doing. She groaned quietly and collapsed against my chest. "I'm sorry," she said instantly, quietly, all the aggression gone.

Fucking therapy. Would it have killed us to just enjoy it for the moment?

I had to remind myself about how I'd worried about the last time. I could hear Sam's voice in my head.  _When you act without thinking there can be long reaching consequences._ I remembered figuring out when it was too late that we hadn't used any type of protection and I wasn't stupid enough to believe the myth that a girl couldn't get knocked up the first time she had sex.

Thank fucking God we'd dodged that bullet.

"Talk to me," I requested, stroking her hair.

"I'm just… stupid," she mumbled.

"Bella," I said warily.

"I  _feel_ stupid," she amended.

"Why?" I prompted.

"We're not going to be in any classes together because I fucked everything up last year," she said in a small voice.

"Not everything," I reminded her. "I think we have biology together, and you have English with Alice."

She sighed and her fingers ran over my chest restlessly. Fuck that felt good. "You don't deserve this. Everyone at school is going to think your girlfriend is dumb."

I rolled my eyes. "Bella, first of all, Seattle is not Forks. I doubt anyone will even notice that you don't have enough units to technically be a Junior. You're going to finish the correspondence courses and maybe a little summer school next summer and you'll be able to graduate with me and Alice. Second of all, anyone who thinks my girlfriend is dumb is obviously a bigger fucking idiot than I don't even know what – and isn't worth thinking about."

She didn't answer immediately so I shifted her a little in my arms so I could see her face. She wasn't looking at me but she was smiling slightly.

I rolled a little so I was on my side and she was on hers, her leg hitched around my waist. Looking at her, I felt my heart fill because I was so fucking lucky to have her and lucky that she was so strong and that she still wanted me after everything we'd been through. "You're smart, Bella. You know you are." I kissed her forehead. "You're so good; you've always been my angel." I kissed her nose. "And you're so beautiful." I kissed one cheek. "Gorgeous." Then the other. "Perfect. I'm so, so lucky that you still want to be mine."

"I'll always be yours," she whispered. "As long as you want me."

"I'll always want you," I assured her. I kissed her lips softly and pulled back. "I love you, Bella," I murmured. A lot of parts of us had been warped, but this was something not even James could have touched. We loved each other.

Then we kissed. We kissed for what might have been hours. Not because either of us were trying to prove anything to ourselves or to each other, but simply because we enjoyed being this close to each other. We kissed just to express all the things we felt for each other.

We kissed because we fucking wanted to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Zomg. I cannot believe there's only one more chapter left. ::sniffles::
> 
> A huge thank you to Jenpall who solved my – wtf is Edward's song – problem without knowing it. Also thanks to Bmango who reminded me of Buildings and Bridges weeks ago. It's perfect for this obnoxiously long "chapter".
> 
> To my reviewers – I know I'm behind. I will get to all of you. You amaze me. I can't even begin to tell you what you mean to me.
> 
> Sunshyne wrote me a fucktastic review on . Check out the blog. I'm enjoying it!
> 
> If any of you have read (and enjoyed) my other fic Alice's Jasper, Edward's Bella, that fic has been nominated over at the Everything's Bigger in Texas awards. They center around Jasper stories. Hehe. If you're so inclined you can vote for me under Most Underappreciated. /ya2gw6o
> 
> Last but not even remotely least – thank you Dizzygrl28 for beta'ing even though I'm a pain in the ass and I know today isn't the best day. And to my girls Cella and JadedandBoring – I love you all so much it hurts not to be able to hug you all the time.
> 
> Let me know what you're thinking. Please.


	14. Going Under

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Contains brief disturbing images. I'm not a psychologist.
> 
> Disclaimer: These beautiful creatures belong to Stephenie Meyer.

**Part 4: Bella Swan PoV: Going Under**

_"So go on and scream_

_Scream at me, I'm so far away  
I won't be broken again  
I've got to breathe, I can't keep going under,"_

_-Going Under, Evanescence_

"Are you sure this is what you want?"

I looked at Carlisle and then back at Billy and Jacob Black.

Carlisle had a business matter to attend to in Forks and had offered to take me with him so I could visit my dad's grave. When we got to the cemetery, dad's old best friend Billy Black was visiting at the same time.

Billy looked at me with that look I hated. It was that look that people used when they felt so sorry for me.

I knew that he knew. He knew everything. At least he knew enough to suspect everything. I knew he'd heard all the rumors. Everyone in that fucking little town thought they had the right story.

What I hated most about that look was that I could feel  _his_ hands on me again. I felt like they could see it. It was worse because it was Billy. He had been an almost permanent fixture in our house for games on the flat screen and went on all of dad's fishing trips.

At dad's funeral, he had told me he wished he could take me in - that my dad would have wanted that. I knew his own wife had died just a few years previous and he had his hands full with three children as it was. I never blamed him, but his eyes on me now just radiated that pity and guilt I couldn't stand.

It felt almost as bad as if my dad knew - as if he'd seen it all happening.

If all the people were right when they'd told me time and again that my dad was watching me from heaven always, then he knew everything.

I felt the beginnings of a panic attack coming on. My chest tightened. Spots danced before my eyes and my head became hazy.

Then, suddenly, Jacob was standing in my view. The sweet kid with the easy smile I remembered. "Hey!" he said cheerfully. "Have you ever taken a look at some of these other graves? Some of them are actually really neat."

My shock had diverted my panic. "Neat?"

He gave me a sheepish grin. "Yeah, that sounds kind of weird doesn't it? But, I think that headstones can be kind of...cool, I guess. It's interesting to see what people wanted, or what people's families wanted, to be remembered by."

I was afraid he was going to grab my hand but he didn't. He seemed to know to lead me with gestures instead of touches, and he kept a short distance between us, giving me some space.

I felt strangely comfortable around him.

He led me a little ways away from Carlisle and Billy, pointing out graves with interesting tidbits. There was a woman who was a beloved wife, mother, daughter and sister whose headstone had a short poem that seemed to be bits and pieces of lyrics from songs like Eternal Flame. There was a beloved son and friend who had a picture of a tractor alongside his picture.

I remembered sitting between Sue and Harry Clearwater, two of dad's other friends, as they helped me plan his funeral. I didn't care about most of it. Who the hell cared about the arrangements of flowers or what color his coffin was? My dad was dead, my mother was a non-entity and I was alone.

"I should have made them put 'Beloved father and friend'," I mumbled.

Jacob shook his head. "No. I mean - I know that I was only eleven when he died, but I remember your dad. Nothing else mattered but you." He smiled. It wasn't a pitying smile; it was just a genuine, friendly grin.

We started talking and before I knew it he was jabbering about his father's old truck and how he wanted it sold as soon as possible so he didn't get stuck with driving the thing. He gestured at an ancient red Chevy truck and I was instantly in love.

The school year was about to start and I was banking on the fact that I could do better this year. I desperately wanted to undo the damage I'd done to my GPA last year. To that end, I wanted to take a night course at one of the adult schools that offered high school classes. If I did well enough, I knew I could convince Carlisle and Esme to let me take one of the truncated courses later on in the semester. The problem was that I didn't want to have to be an additional inconvenience to anyone. The idea of any one of them dropping what they were doing on a given evening just to go pick me up felt selfish in the extreme.

I'd started talking about buses and Carlisle had started talking about getting me my own car. I had vehemently refused, but then Edward and Jasper had gently pointed out that Carlisle was just being a dad. Emily urged me to find a compromise so I wouldn't be uncomfortable but I could still allow him to spoil me. She said that letting others do things for you was actually part of being a fully functioning human being. Within reason, of course.

With Carlisle and the boys talking about cars that had price tags that were way out of my comfort zone, I had been struggling to find a middle ground. This was perfect. As the police chief, my dad hadn't ever made much money. However, when I thought about it, I remembered him making off hand comments about how he should start teaching me how to drive sooner rather than later. If he was already thinking about that when I was thirteen, it stood to reason that he would have wanted to help me get a car. The Black's truck was within my dad's price range, so since he probably would have gotten it for me, Billy being his friend and everything, I didn't feel as bad accepting it from Carlisle.

Carlisle looked at the dilapidated old truck and back at me skeptically. I finally answered his question. "Yeah. I like it. It has personality."

"Engine works great. I did a lot of work on it myself," Jacob piped up, proud of himself.

"See, it even has a personal touch," I concluded. I felt myself smiling before I could help it. "Please?"

I could see Carlisle was fighting to keep his smile from getting too big. He knew I hated it when someone overreacted to the stupid shit I did that should have been normal but just wasn't for me. Oh great, Bella is acting like a normal person instead of a sniveling sad sack. Like I deserved some sort of praise for that. Pathetic.

I shook off the dark feeling that threatened me as Carlisle chuckled and turned to Billy, "How much did you say you wanted for it?"

I squealed with delight and threw myself into Carlisle's arms. I couldn't help it. I  _really_ wanted that truck. I felt him stiffen in surprise but then he squeezed me back for just a second before letting me go. I blushed, a little embarrassed by my juvenile behavior, but still happy.

Jacob taught me what I needed to know about driving a stick shift and the gummy works about this particular car while Billy and Carlisle hashed out the details.

We had to take Billy and Jacob home, of course. Before we left, Jacob extracted a promise from me that I would e-mail him.

I could see Carlisle watching me out of the corner of his eye as I answered that I would. This time he couldn't hide his smile.

A few days after the acquisition of the truck, I was awoken by a tickling sensation on my feet. I groaned at it. I didn't want to be awake. Not yet. Five more-

I giggled - half amused and half annoyed. I was only amused because whatever was doing that to my feet was forcing me to laugh. I tried to be grumpy instead and grumbled.

There was a reason I wanted to be asleep but I couldn't remember what it was. The tickling sensation was moving up my ankle and it was very distracting.

And it had a lovely, deep chuckle.

I opened my eyes.

Of course Edward was there, sitting on the edge of my bed. For a moment I honestly believed that the future I dreamed about was here. For a handful of seconds I let myself believe I wasn't a traumatized girl anymore. I was a sure and confident woman who was finally comfortable in her own skin. The long road that had lain ahead of me when I fell asleep was behind me, and I was impressively happy with the love of my life.

Edward smiled at me. "Good morning," he said quietly.

I didn't say anything - not wanting to ruin the fantasy I was engaging in. Instead, I lifted the covers and invited him in for a cuddle.

One side of his mouth lifted in a regretful little grin, "Sorry. You have to get up, and I'm afraid if I lay down with you then neither of us is going to make it to school on time."

My heart started pounding and the fantasy slipped away instantly. I was the traumatized girl again. I was scared and anxious and self-conscious.

In an instant I felt overwhelmingly tired. It was too much. I was too scared. I would stay home today and try again tomorrow. One day wasn't a big deal. My eyelids started to droop.

Edward grabbed the edge of my comforter and peeled it away from me. Childishly, I rolled away from him, drawing my legs up close to my chest.

I heard him sigh before he laid a hand on my waist, stroking my side gently. I tried to concentrate on how good it felt, how soothing. I tried to concentrate on how good he was to me. He was so patient. They all were patient with me but Edward was above and beyond. I knew it had to be difficult. There were some days when he couldn't touch me at all and I knew that hurt him. There were times when I was so needy - repeating my most pathetic fears while he assured me over and over again that he would never leave me. Although, if I was being honest with myself, he'd had his share of those days too, but honesty was difficult when I was feeling so incapable of even keeping my eyes open.

I didn't need one more frustration so I just concentrated on his reassuring presence.

He moved his hand from my waist, slipping it beneath my shirt and resting it on the bare skin of my stomach. He paused there, waiting, but I didn't tense up. I knew where I was and who I was with, for once. I snuggled deeper into the pillows to show him I was fine - completely at ease. He began stroking my bare skin, and not only were his ministrations not making me nervous in the slightest, but they were lulling me back to sleep.

The bed creaked, and without warning, Edward pulled my shirt up slightly, exposing the skin of my belly. Before I had time to get twitchy about it he had bent down, simultaneously tugging me onto my back and pressing his lips to my skin. He blew a loud, wet raspberry against my stomach. I squealed with laughter at the titillating sensation, squirming under him and trying to get away. He put his arm out to keep me from scrambling away too easily, but it didn't escape my notice that his hold was loose. "Stop!" I screamed, not in any sort of anxiety but in normal, giddiness. "Edward! I'm not a baby!"

He lifted his face from my stomach and grinned incorrigibly at me. "You're my baby."

I grinned, letting my heart fill with those words and trying to let them buoy my spirits.

The exhaustion remained and I felt my temporary high begin to crumble quickly. Edward was amazing. I had a loving mother and father figure, two great brothers and two awesome sisters. Why couldn't it be enough?

Frustrated, I closed my eyes. I felt Edward lay beside me and I curled myself against him as he put his arms around me.

"I wish I knew how to make this easier, Bella," he said quietly.

"You remember that movie 'Click'?" I mumbled, desperately trying to hold back the useless tears.

"Yeah," Edward answered, rubbing my back.

"Fast forward through this part. I don't want to feel it," I whimpered pathetically.  _Please, please don't make me do this._ A tiny voice in my mind chanted. God, it would be so much easier to just grab the covers. Just curl up here. Just sleep.

Sometimes these moments were the hardest. I knew that portions of my mind were making my body work against me. There was nothing wrong with me physically that would keep me confined to my bed; nothing tangible that made me incapable of moving. I knew it in my logical mind - but that didn't make it easier to move.

Part of depression was a loss of functionality. In the early days - before any of the therapy and meds - I was down to almost zero functionality. I was so far gone that the mere thought of brushing my teeth on a daily basis was too much to handle. Actually doing it made me feel like I had run a marathon.

Up Mount Everest.

Even with therapy and medication it was an uphill battle. I gained my functionality back in increments. It was like being a toddler all over again - learning the basics. How to dress myself. How to brush my teeth and wash my hair all on my own.

At least I was potty trained this time.

Everything was a battle. I didn't always win.

Right then the voice that was reminding me that I had to get up and fight this was small and far away. My eyelids were heavy. I wanted to sleep - I just wanted to not have to try so fucking hard. Just today, please, just today let me rest.

Wordlessly, Edward took my hand and pressed it against his chest. Even through his shirt I could feel his heart pounding. My eyes flew open. "Edward, are you okay?"

"This is what I feel when I think about school. I'm scared too," he responded. "Bella, we've never known anything except the same set of kids in the same tiny town. It's okay to be scared, and you know you're not alone."

The anxiety eased. Not a lot, but enough to make it bearable. I hugged him tightly. He hugged me back, whispering that he loved me. "Now come on. Get out of bed. I will let you drive me to school in that atrocious monstrosity you call a vehicle."

And I could leave if it was too much ...without bothering him or anyone else for a ride home.

Despite the lethargy and the anxiety, the overwhelming love I felt for him at that moment was intense. He knew me. He loved me. It was worth every single step, no matter how difficult, if it meant I was moving forward to a normal life with him.

I got up. I showered. I shaved my legs. I brushed my teeth. Swathed in a towel, I stepped back into my room and had a fight with myself about how comfortable the bed looked. Somehow, I made it to the closet and grabbed the first things I could find. Alice arrived and brushed my hair out and even though it probably should have annoyed me, I found the feel of someone running a brush through my hair entirely too calming to argue with today. We went downstairs where Esme fed us too much breakfast and we all picked at it restlessly.

Edward was right. We were all nervous.

We arrived together - Alice and Jasper in the Volvo and Edward and I in the truck, just as he had promised. We got out of the car and approached the school, my hand in Edward's and Alice's in Jasper's.

Seattle was certainly not Forks.

Most of the kids were indifferent to us. The school was too big for them to know everyone, so we were just four more nameless faces that were getting through the day just like they were. Of all of us. Jasper got the most curious glances, but that was to be expected with his scars. Actually, the looks I saw girls giving him, when I glanced up at all, were...interested.

More to distract myself than anything, I really looked at Jasper. I never saw the scars. Whenever I saw him I only saw the gentle face of a boy I loved - in a brotherly fashion of course. However, looking at him objectively I could understand the stares he was getting. He was quite handsome - the scars giving him a rugged more than maimed appearance. I noticed Alice narrow her eyes at a girl who was staring and press herself closely against Jasper's side.

Of course, Edward garnered more than one glance from more than one girl.

That was really all it took. I was already feeling anxious and nervous and scared, but when I looked at the girls who were looking at Edward it set off an inevitable chain reaction. Most kids wandered through the halls just getting through the day and thinking about not much more important than the latest bullshit drama and what happened on Gossip Girl the other night.

I over-thought everything.

Once you start down that path, it's difficult to stop. One thing just leads naturally to another. I saw the other girls looking cute and put together, and I tugged self-consciously at the plain shirt, jacket and jeans that I wore. I wasn't a slob but I certainly wasn't dressed to make a first impression. Even if they weren't looking at me, and most of my logical mind understood that they weren't, I couldn't help but feel eyes on me. Were they judging my appearance? Just another mousy girl who doesn't give a shit? I really didn't give a shit what they thought about my clothes, but was that normal? Was I supposed to care? Was it just one more defective piece of the way my mind worked; just one more way I didn't fit in with the rest of society?

Edward squeezed my hand and leaned down to press a chaste kiss to my temple before we all went our separate ways. None of us had the same first hour together.

My first hour was U.S. History, which I had to repeat because I had failed it last year. The frustrating thing about failing because I didn't put forth any effort was that I had heard it all before - even if some of it was a little vague. We went over the curriculum and I got that eerie sense of déjà vu. It hit me then that I'd spent the entire last year not moving forward at all. I knew that was ridiculous, but knowing something and feeling something were two entirely different concepts. I felt the disappointment - I could be enrolled in AP classes with Edward, not only moving forward but actually adding to my college credits while still in high school. Except I was stupid. And weak.

My mind started to recoil, automatically cringing away from those useless feelings by calling up my trusted coping mechanism - as I now knew to call it. My thoughts got less concrete and further away from the classroom I was in with each passing minute. Little bits and pieces of novels kept on popping into my head, playing for me. It was hard to force myself to let them go - because they made me so happy, peaceful, when, in the real world, my thoughts were a chaotic mess.

The rest of the day continued in much the same fashion. It was exhausting - having to try so hard just to keep myself anchored here. Second period with Alice was easier - both because it was with Alice and because English was one of the few classes I had not fucked up. I had passed that one, but only because I could pass with my eyes closed.

Honestly - if the point of going to school was to learn, was it fair that, despite the fact I got perfect A's on every test, I got a C in the class because I hadn't turned in my homework?

I continued to push away the frustration and the nerves and struggled to keep myself grounded in the present.

By the time lunch rolled around I was ready to drag myself to my truck and just throw in the towel at least for today. Emily was constantly telling me to look back to see how far I'd come rather than looking forward to see how much of the journey I had yet to conquer. It made sense. When I got overwhelmed my mind tried to shut down rather than squaring my shoulders and pushing forward. It was like having to fight not only to put one foot in front of the other but also to keep myself upright at all.

I looked for Jasper first, knowing that he had to be having at trying day as well. I was surprised to find him at a table with Alice, Peter and a few others. I stopped short, not knowing whether I was up to meeting new people. I looked at Jasper carefully. I could see the anxiety in his eyes and the set of his shoulders. His leg was bouncing nervously, but he was obviously dealing with it. I even saw him smile hesitantly at one of the strangers.

Just as I was trying to work my nerve up to go sit with them, Edward appeared beside me. "Come on," he said, tugging my hand in the opposite direction - out of the lunch room.

I tried to protest but he leaned in and whispered in my ear. "Bella, you don't have to take on every challenge today."

So I let him lead me away into a quiet corner of the school where we could talk and relax and unwind - and for an hour, I didn't have to fight.

After the shitty week I'd had - and it was shitty for no other purpose than because I'd had to live through it - I almost skipped therapy.

Almost.

Why was something that was supposed to help me often the hardest thing I ever did?

Of course, the first thing Emily asked was how school was going. I got out all my anger and frustration at myself for having such a hard time.

It had taken both Edward and Jasper sitting at the dining room table with me for an hour and a half longer than it should have to finish my homework the night before.

"Come on, Emily. You can't tell me it's not just plain laziness. I mean - Edward and Jasper aren't having problems. Even when we were with James, they still got all their homework done. They can still get through class. Jasper's even starting to make friends outside of us and look at everything they went through."

Emily was giving me that look again, with the pursed lips like she did when she was deciding whether or not she was going to ask me a question. "Bella, why do you always talk about Edward and Jasper as if they went through something different than what you did? Or something more, anyway?"

I blinked at her, feeling like she shouldn't be so dense, but I knew from experience she was going to end up turning this around on me somehow.

I was also instantly queasy. We hadn't really gotten into anything with James or... Well, we hadn't really discussed my past. We talked a little bit about my father, but most of my therapy so far had revolved around different coping mechanisms - retraining myself how to think just to be able to make it through the day. I didn't know if I was ready but I also trusted Emily enough to understand that she thought I was strong enough to handle it.

I rethought her question, carefully avoiding thinking about anything that happened under James' roof since two weeks after my birthday last year.

"He was different with me. He was... I don't know. Normal. When he punished me I mean," I mumbled, trying to articulate my thoughts clearly.

When she spoke, Emily's voice was gentle. "Why do you think what he did to you was normal?"

Despite her unassuming tone, I felt my hackles rise. I drew my feet up onto the couch and hugged them tightly to my chest. "I didn't get half of what they got. He broke their bones…and the bruises-"

"Bella," Emily interrupted, "We're talking about you right now."

For a long while I didn't answer. Part of me knew it was ridiculous to think that James' brand of punishment was normal, but I just didn't have enough faith in that part. Who the hell was I to say? I mean, there were people who couldn't handle the things that were just normal to everyone else. Yes, he'd hurt me, but wasn't that the point? A spanking is supposed to hurt. Wasn't that normal?

A memory tugged at my mind and I started talking. "When I was in second grade I was over at Jessica's house. Jessica was showing off her mother's pretty crystal figurine. She broke it. Her mother was so mad. She spanked her. Right in front of me. Just a little while afterward Jessica was giggling and playing like it hadn't even happened. I always knew that a lot of my friends were … punished that way. My dad never did it. When James did…I just-," I trailed off, putting my head on my knees. "I'm just a baby about it. That's all."

Emily didn't confirm or deny this - but that was typical. She was more of a show a person how to think than tell a person what to think type. "After your friend's mother hit her, what did she do? Do you remember?"

What a strange question. "She gave her a hug."

Emily nodded as if deep in thought. "And during? Did she yell at Jessica?"

I started to get a little impatient about what this had to do with anything. "She scolded her. I guess. I don't remember that well, I was too surprised and it was forever ago."

"And what did James say when he punished you?" Emily asked softly.

My breath hitched. Unconsciously, I started rocking back and forth. My head was noisy with the memories of the things that James said from the very first punishment. Stupid. Worthless. Idiot. Bitch. I remembered how often he told me that my mother abandoned me because she knew I wasn't worth it and that my father would be ashamed of me.

When she was sure I was listening again, Emily continued. "A lot of kids are punished with spankings and the like. I don't necessarily disagree with that, but what you have to understand is that there's a line. There's the how he punished you - James hit you hard enough to leave marks – bruises and welts. There's the why he hit you - not to guide you or because you really did anything wrong, but more to manipulate you, or take out his anger. Additionally, the things he said to you were cruel and untrue.

"Those three reasons are just a few of the ways that the things he did to you were abnormal and very wrong. Do you understand the difference between your friend's mother spanking her daughter for playing with something she was likely warned not to and what James did to you?"

I nodded and, because it was expected of me, I rattled off the differences. It was too hard. The things he said fucked with my mind. Yadda, yadda, yadda.

Emily eyed me, likely gauging if she should believe that I actually thought the things coming out of my mouth were true. That was something she'd pointed out to all three of us on more than one occasion. By necessity, Edward, Jasper and I had learned to pick up on what people, adults specifically, wanted to hear. With James it had just made our lives easier. It was also necessary to put on the charade we had for everyone else.

Yeah, therapy might be forty different types of pain in the ass, but fuck if you didn't learn a thing or two about the jacked up things a human brain can do.

Again, Emily had that look on her face. She was going to push me. I could sense it. She was going to do that shitty therapist trick where they say something that just sits and kind of simmers in the back of your mind until you had processed all of it.

Here was another way that movies and television distorted your expectations for real life. In therapy there were rarely any breakthroughs. Most of the point was a gradual process that took almost constant work and guidance. Therapy was about rehabilitating a mind that was conditioned in all the wrong ways. There was no single moment in time where a switch was flipped and suddenly you knew how to act or didn't feel the things you weren't supposed to be feeling. A breakthrough was when you came to a realization you previously had missed. That did fuckall to cure you of the poisonous thoughts and unhealthy actions, though.

"Bella - do you ever feel angry at James?" Emily asked.

You know, I hadn't thought about it until that very moment, but I didn't. I never felt angry at James.

Why was that?

"You know," Emily told me a little later, "I'm really proud of you. I know you've had a tough week and I didn't expect you to come today. I would have understood if you didn't."

Now she tells me.

Months passed.

School was a constant battle. I won more often than I lost but the losses were always more devastating and the wins seemed inconsequential as always. When my progress reports were handed out in class every single 0 that represented an assignment I'd neglected to complete glared at me like a neon sign that screamed  _failure, failure, failure._

Even on the days I felt almost normal, there was usually something to remind that I was not. If I jumped into Edward's arms he would eye me warily, never making a quick, impulsive move like he did that one day. If I didn't feel like eating breakfast or didn't want much for dinner, Esme would get that worried look on her face - like I was slipping back into that time when I had no appetite. Often, Carlisle would get that look in his eyes like he wanted to hug me or he'd go to put his hand on my shoulder - just a little affectionate gesture - and he'd pull back.

I couldn't blame any of them, of course I couldn't. Sometimes their careful behavior was absolutely necessary, because there were plenty of days when they would set me off - or could easily set me off.

There were the stupid things. The Seattle school system offered a wide variety of after school activities and programs for every interest - much better than anything tiny Forks High could have offered. Edward and Jasper both got involved in a couple of different things. Jasper had found his niche with the History Club and a couple of other academically oriented groups. He was a closet nerd - who knew? Edward had gotten involved in basketball - enjoying losing himself in the speed and grace of the sport.

The stupid part came in when he came home from practice one day and I spotted a bruise on his arm. I started to get an anxiety attack. I freaked out.

"It's a normal bruise. Just a stray basketball," Edward soothed.

I groaned into my hands, feeling stupid that I was so much on edge when I knew better. "It's been almost a year. This shouldn't still be happening. I know better," I growled, frustrated with myself.

Jasper plopped down beside me on the couch. "A couple of weeks ago I was walking in the hall and this guy with blond hair comes around the corner. He bumped into me - and even though I knew it was an accident, when I fell to the floor I had ... like a whole shitload of really bad flashbacks." Jasper grimaced at the memory. "I ditched class because I couldn't calm down," he admitted.

"You remember when you stayed home last week?" Edward asked.

I grimaced because it was one of the days that my blankets were too heavy and I had lost the battle I fought to get up every morning. I nodded quickly to distract myself and the boys from noticing the defeat that had to be painting my features.

"I was a wreck all day that day worrying about you," Edward continued. "I was jumpy and nervous, even though I knew you were safe. I just couldn't help remembering having to leave you or Jasper home alone with James. You know?"

I shuddered, remembering that last time after Edward had gotten sent home for punching Mike Newton. I'd hid my tears through my remaining two classes at the day just imagining what James was doing to him.

We reminded ourselves that we would never have to do those things again. We'd never have to search each other for bruises and marks and know that our guardian was the one that put them there on purpose. We would never have to rush home after school or after being out to find one of us had been conquered, bowed and defeated. We didn't have to live in fear of the next time someone would push us to the ground or shove us against the wall or threaten us with their fists and their kicks and their belt.

Now why wasn't I angry that we had to tell ourselves those things in the first place?

In early January Jasper spoke up during one of our group sessions about our burgeoning friendships with other people.

We interacted with people now - a lot more. Edward and I had started joining the lunch table sometime in October. The kids were friendly. Intelligent. Pleasant to be around. None of the people at our table treated us like pariahs the way the Forks crowd had.

It wasn't their entire fault, I knew that. We had all pushed the more open kids away. Like Angela Weber, and hell, even Mike Newton. Newton wasn't a bad guy - he was just angry. Jessica and Lauren were the same way. We had gone from being best friends, even sleeping over at each other's house one week and then my dad died and I totally shut down. Then James had happened and I was a total nervous wreck around people in general.

Interacting with other human beings, like everything else in my life it seemed, was a skill I had to reacquire. At least I didn't seem to be alone in this one.

"I see all these kids, right, and they're just so...carefree," Jasper explained, rubbing his hands on his knees anxiously. "They laugh and they joke and they don't have a care in the world. They're just comfortable. And even when I'm laughing right along with them, I just don't feel that."

Edward nodded his agreement. "I feel different. Like I can't ever be a part of that world. Not really. Like I'm just going through the motions."

Sam looked thoughtful for a moment. "You're all about the Civil War these days, right?" he asked Jasper. It was his latest historical fascination. He was even trying to convince the family to go on a tour of battlefields this summer. Jasper nodded at Sam and I saw Edward roll his eyes. "You know how whole families were split down the middle? Brother against brother and all that? Well, imagine that you were a Confederate soldier in a room full of Union supporters. Even though you're family - you share a common bond - you'd still be acutely aware that everyone in the room had this totally different mindset that you didn't agree with or understand. Even if no one brought up politics, it would still feel...off," Sam concluded.

Oddly enough, that's exactly how I felt. I saw Edward and Jasper grudgingly agreeing with this analogy.

"Well, the Union wins the war," Jasper said wryly. "So what does that mean for us - assuming we're the Confederate soldier in this equation? Do we spend the rest of our lives just a little bit...off?"

Emily and Sam shared another one of their looks and I was sure I wasn't going to like the answer.

"The three of you have seen and experienced so much that so many out there will not personally ever understand," Emily said gently. "When you know true loss; when you've seen so much of the darkness that the world is capable of - well, it's not something you can undo. There will always be a part of you that knows that people are capable of - because if the one person you should have been able to trust with anything and everything betrayed you then anyone can. There will always be that part of you that knows what it's like to lose not only people you care about, but situations you're comfortable in. You understand the instability of life, and unfortunately that's something you can't ... un-know.

"To answer your question, in my own personal experience - no, it doesn't ever go away. Not completely. It gets better. Easier. You find yourself relaxing for longer periods." She smiled at us again. "But there are tradeoffs to it as well. I know it probably doesn't feel like it now, but you will come to realize that you're also capable of more profound happiness. You know the value of the people in your life - the love of a mother and father, and friends who know every part of you. It's something that most of us take for granted, but you never will."

The more Emily and I worked on my issues about James, the more I dreaded getting to the topic of ...his friend. I didn't want to relive those moments any more than I was already forced to. It was too confusing and horrifying.

I was getting better. I could see that.

One day, when I came into Edward's room and he was lounging lazily on his bed watching TV I went to him and climbed onto his lap. He held perfectly still. The one time I had talked about it at all - the one night that all the secrets came spilling out because I just couldn't hold them anymore - I told him little. Edward knew that... Felix had pulled me onto his lap and put his hands on me and in me.

I knew Edward wouldn't hurt me though. He had never held me down or put his hands on me roughly - taking what he wanted without a second thought about me. No, Edward focused almost primarily on me - putting me above his own needs always.

Like now. I sat on his lap while he held still, his eyes taking me in with concern. We both paused and I waited for the tightness in my chest and the memories I wished I could give away.

They didn't come.

I grinned at him and he tentatively put his hands on my waist.

There was a lot of kissing.

There may have a little dry humping too.

I was past the point where the pleasurable feelings made me feel guilt and shame. Without talking specifically about Felix, Emily had made sure I knew early on the difference between the biological responses of my body and what I actually wanted.

Understanding this, I knew that when I went to Edward that day and kissed him and moved my center over the bulge in his jeans, I was expressing physically what I felt for him. It was a mutual give and take. It was heat and friction and love and passion. It was good.

I was getting stronger, but the downside of this was that I was strong enough to face everything that had happened to me. It was a strange place to be. On the one hand I wanted to release this power those two men had over me. They were the source of my every nightmare and every panic attack. On the other hand I dreaded having to talk about it because I dreaded the things I knew I would have to feel. The memories.

Rosalie had been talking to me via e-mail and IM since we met in December. I knew why she was talking to me. I knew that she had been raped at a young age. At first, I balked at any comparison between her situation and mine. I couldn't fathom going through what she had - with her boyfriend no less. It wasn't the same - not the same at all, and, at first, it made me feel worse because I was a mess and she was a tower of strength.

But Rosalie didn't try to get me to talk about it. She just talked to me. Even though she was nearly six years older than I was and a thousand times more put together, she talked to me like we were peers. During one of my worse moments of self-loathing I asked her why she bothered and one of the things she said was that we were sisters now - because Emmett thought of me that way and she genuinely enjoyed my company.

Then, one day, not long after I had begun toying with the notion that I just needed to finally talk about it - really talk about it, Rosalie told me  _her s_ tory.

I listened and cried for her, because no one should have to go through what she went through.

Then I told her my story. All of it. Everything.

It helped. It helped a lot. Because even though I knew by now that I could have gone to Edward or to Jasper or Alice or Esme or even Carlisle and they wouldn't have judged me or looked down on me at all, they couldn't really understand - truly understand. You couldn't know the just how helpless you could feel, or comprehend how you could feel so entirely at fault for the things that were happening to you unless you had lived through it.

After that it was easier to talk about it - never completely simple, but definitely easier. When I had nightmares and woke up in Edward's safe arms, I could tell him a little about it. He would always listen quietly, though I sometimes felt him tremble with emotion as I spoke. I was better able to handle his grief, and his helplessness and his anger then. Anger at Felix for hurting me and anger at James for letting it happen.

I still couldn't feel anger at James, though I really, really wanted to.

It was approaching March when Sam and Emily asked us if we wanted to volunteer at a boys and girls shelter on the outskirts of Seattle. It was a place where troubled kids sometimes stayed - like a group home, except they specialized in especially traumatic cases.

I met a girl there who was my age. She had the words 'Help Me' carved into her skin - the scar shiny and smooth and old. When she caught me staring she smirked and said in a hard voice, "My brother thought I was a convenient glory hole," and walked away.

Jasper had played ball with a little boy - maybe eight - who had showed him the 'bad boy' his mother had burned into his flesh with cigarettes.

We all heard a lot of horrible stories that day. All of them worse than ours.

Seeing all that heartbreak all around me, and the strength of those kids - some of them so young that I had difficulty accepting there mere presence there - blew me away.

Surprisingly, the sadness didn't overwhelm me.

Anger did.

I was pissed. I was livid. I wanted to hunt down each of their monsters and make them bleed and hurt. Though I was normally such a passive person, the thought of what they had all been through made me crave blood. It made me think of all the tortures I'd read about in Greek Mythology and the Spanish Inquisition combined and I thought that I could see their monsters suffer each horrible fate and laugh.

Later that weekend I was, for once, alone in the big house. I was restless. The anger that had snapped on in me when I thought about what was done to those innocent kids had not abated. Sure, I'd felt anger when I lived with James - especially when he was hurting Edward and Jasper and I was helpless. This anger was different. It was big. Bigger than me and bigger than the few minutes at a time that I felt it before. When I was with James, any anger was inevitably lost to the fear when he literally beat my fury out of me.

Now, though, there was nothing to stop it. I was so. Fucking. Angry.

I hated that this kind of ugliness existed at all, let alone that it had hurt people who did not deserve it. They were maimed.

Trying to escape the too heavy thoughts, I poured a glass of lemonade with shaking hands and went out on the porch. I stood against the railing, trying to take in the peace of the green that surrounded me.

Some of those kids wouldn't make it. Some of them would be lost - to drugs, or suicide, or crime. Some of them would never recover.

Some of them would repeat the fucking cycle. This would continue. This would happen again to other kids.

It wasn't fucking fair. It wasn't their fault.

I didn't notice that I was rocking restlessly against the wooden railing until I had pushed my glass forward in my sudden fervor - the thoughts that plagued me suddenly too big and too much to contain. The glass of lemonade tumbled from my hands and hit the pavement below. It shattered fantastically, not into big, easy to pick up pieces but into tiny fragments. The sound of the glass as it flew to pieces was cacophonous and it tore apart something at the depths of my being. The noise brought with it a barrage of memories each of which hit me with the strength of a sucker punch right to the gut. My throat tightened. My stomach churned. My lungs felt like they had been put in a vice grip.

It was the sound of the bowl hitting the kitchen floor with Edward's cake batter making a fantastic mess. The memory took me to that fucking closet where I cowered in the darkness, hands clamped hard over my mouth to keep from screaming. I heard each sickening, muted thump as James kicked Edward again and again, demanding that he get up and fight back. Helplessness, sorrow, guilt and terror.

It was the beer bottles falling from my fingers as Felix grabbed me. Of course, that took me back to that godforsaken house where I was alone with three monsters. Victoria who smirked and snickered at me, enjoying my pain and my fear. Felix who thought my body was his to control and touch as he pleased. And James, of course. James who had dragged me to my room, bent me over my desk and beaten me with his belt; screaming at me about respecting his friends and him minutes before he violated my body. Anger, horror, sick and shame.

It was the mirror shattering the first time. How could I forget the feeling that was on top of my skin and in my blood at the same time? I felt wrong; so horribly wrong. It had burned in me like acid, eating away at any and every good feeling. It had polluted my every thought and left me feeling grimy and unclean. It was madness because the reflection in the mirror didn't reflect the things I felt physically. Chaos.

It was the mirror shattering the second time. I was safe. The monsters were locked up and things were supposed to be better. But they weren't. In some ways, they were worse. The memory of that day was my world coming down around me, because my worst fear had been realized. James and Felix were right. Not only that, but everyone knew. Jessica and Lauren, two girls who I had once counted among my best friends, knew. They could see everything. I was bad. I was wrong. Everyone knew it. It was inescapable. Ugliness. Poison.

With my memories assaulting me I felt everything all at once; all over again. Somehow, I didn't go into a panic attack. No, this was something different, because at that moment all my thoughts swirled around the one person, myself aside, that was a common denominator in all those visions.

James.

And all of a sudden, my rabid fury reached a boiling point. All centered around him.

Without fully realizing what I was doing I ran back into the house. I grabbed everything I could get my hands on. A stack of plates, a few glasses, a couple of bowls - everything I could carry without dropping and went back out onto the porch. I stood there for a moment - breathing hard, my thoughts barely coherent save for the name that kept repeating in my skull. James. James. James.

James who hurt the boys I loved in front of my eyes time and time again while I was unable to do anything.

James who brought other monsters into the house; who let them fuck with us and hurt us.

"Fuck you!" I screamed, the words torn out of me, wild and uninhibited. I'd only said them to his face once but I screamed them now. "Fuck you. Fuck you. You son of a bitch. You fucking asshole. You pathetic piece of shit."

He seemed to appear in front of me - that god awful smirk sneering at me. The face that twisted in rage over shit that was nothing. Nothing. Because I knew now that none of us had deserved any of it. Not a single beating was excusable. It wasn't our fault. It wasn't my fault.

It was all his fault.

"Fuck you!" I yelled at the apparition. "Every time you beat me and didn't stop until I cried. You wanted to break me. You wanted to break them because you're broken and ugly. Well, fuck you. You failed. You failed you miserable pig fucking son of a bitch. You didn't get them. You're not going to get me."

I hurled a glass at the vision and he seemed to waver. He became dimmer. My anger burned brighter. Stronger.

"Every time you thought you won, well you didn't. You didn't. You'll never know what it is to love. Fuck you for not loving your son the way you should have," I flung a plate and the noise of it shattering drowned out James' color a little more. "Fuck you for being so fucking blind you could never see how beautiful he is. He's so much better than you. You don't deserve him."

Another glass hit the sidewalk and exploded. "Fuck you for trying to fucking beat Edward into the ground. It wasn't arrogance, you slimy piece of trash. He was just stronger than you. He was so much more at thirteen than you will ever be. Fuck you for trying to take that away."

"You told me I was worthless." A bowl became shards of glass below me. "You told me I was an idiot." Another plate. "You told me I was a whore. I almost fucking believed you. But fuck that and fuck you. I hate you. I hate you. I don't believe you anymore. I fucking hate you. You're not going to get me, not ever!" I threw the last three plates in quick succession and fell forward onto the railing sobbing and hysterical. There were too many thoughts running through my head. But he hadn't gotten me, and I was sure now that he wouldn't.

It hit me then. Really and truly. Everything that my life  _wasn't_ hit me. It was a profound, relieving and frightening moment all wrapped in one.

I collapsed to my knees and cried. It was so different from my previous break downs. I wasn't crying because I was sad or frustrated or terrified. I was overwhelmed with the enormity of my life at that moment. It had dawned on me how very close I came – how close we all came – to total destruction. It only would have taken a very small twist of circumstance for one of any number of horrible things to have happened. We'd scratched the surface of so many darker worlds that I couldn't name them all. What if we  _had_ been stealing his pills? What if we could have gotten our hands on Victoria and Felix's harder drugs? Felix had spoken about Aro's "girls" – prostitutes that were, presumably, my age. I knew it happened.

It could have been me. It could have been Jasper or Edward.

One thing I could say about my experience was that I hadn't had to go through it alone. That made all the difference in the world. Those kids at the group home - most of them had to do it all alone. When you were alone there was no one you had to think about before you did something stupid. I know a couple of the girls who'd had a similar experience to me made poor decisions, especially when it came to her body. Emily herself had confessed that was where her scars had come from. After the experiences she had, she hadn't respected herself or her body and had made the wrong decisions about the wrong people. The man who had put the scars on her face was a boyfriend - a man who was supposed to love and care for her.

If Edward and Jasper hadn't been there to love me - it could have been me. It so easily could have been me.

I thought about the boys and girls with hard as nails exteriors at the group home. The ones that hid all their pain and fear behind fierce expressions and don't-give-a-shit attitudes. I learned that more than one of the kids in the home had a rap sheet. Stealing. Fighting. A list of petty crimes that could be sealed officially if they stopped by the time they were seventeen, but not all of them would. A lot of them would spend their lives in and out of prison. Some of them would end up dead.

It could have been Jasper, if Edward and I hadn't come. It could have been any of us, really.

What would have happened to me if the Cullen's weren't there? If we'd had to live longer in that house? I was desperately aware of the fact that, when I'd been rescued from that house, I'd been dangerously close to breaking. Too close. Too many possibilities ran through my mind. Felix would have found a way to get alone with me at some point, I'd accepted that. In retrospect I could see all the choices I made without thinking - trying to take back one small inch of control over my body before Felix could take everything. What if I had ended up pregnant – by Felix or by Edward? What if I'd ended up with some disease?

What if. What if. What if.

We'd been so lucky, so fucking lucky. It was too much to deal with. Too much to know that it all could have been so much worse.

The family got home just as I had stopped screaming but I was still sobbing. I was instantly surrounded by soothing, loving - if a little frightened - voices. Even Emmett and Rosalie were there. They'd come over for dinner I realized.

I stood on shaky fawns legs and threw myself into Carlisle's arms first. "I love you." I said, squeezing him tightly before moving onto Esme, then Alice, then Emmett, then Rosalie. I sobbed each of them that I loved them and they were the purest and truest statements I had ever uttered.

When I got to Jasper, I just broke down into hysterics all over again. I couldn't even talk. It was too much. I threw one arm around his neck and one arm around Edward's and the three of us sank to the floor like we were one unit. I didn't have the words and neither did they. They held me. They held each other. We were one big ball of tears and arms and legs on the porch with our family gathered around us.

It didn't fix everything. It didn't really fix anything. But after that day the weight that was a constant presence in my chest was just a little lighter, and easier to deal with. The anger was never that bad again.

After that day, even in my worst moments, I knew for sure that James hadn't won. The words I'd screamed at my memory of him were true. He wasn't going to get me. Not ever.

I guess you really can have breakthroughs.

Time passed and we all got better; happier. Though, Emily and Sam were right. It was never as easy for any of us as it seemed to be for all the "normal" people out there. We all shared the same feeling that we were never quite able to fit in – even though we laughed and talked with other people, and they seemed to enjoy us. It was just a lingering feeling of something being just a little bit off.

Happiness – those pure moments of just joy that made the constant weight on my heart disappear completely – was something I came to understand happened in increments of time. I was happy for minutes, hours – a day here or there. Most of the time I was content and that was a good life.

The darkness never completely went away but the stronger I got, the easier it was to quell, and the longer in between times it would attack me. When it did, it was never as strong or devastating as it had been in the early days.

There was a tradeoff to the moments of blackness and the feeling that we were different. We were also noticeably stronger than most of our friends and co-workers. While I always hated to see anyone suffering it threw into sharp relief my own inner strength, reinforcing the words that Carlisle, and Esme and everyone who'd cared for us had told us from day one. We weren't weak.

We were bent, but we'd never broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: If you only knew how many times I typed something and deleted it and stared at it and I still don't know if any of it makes sense.
> 
> Sigh.
> 
> Anyway - I know I'm behind on review replies, and I'm sorry about that. The truth of the matter is that every single one of your reviews amazes me and I can't thank you enough. I'll get to them. I just needed to be done with this story before almost everything else.
> 
> The epilogue is, essentially, done. I need to spruce it a bit but I'm also putting together sort of a PSA at the end - you know - numbers and websites and things - oh my!
> 
> I love DizzyGrl28 – I have NO idea how she puts up with my bratty-whining.
> 
> Personal note – I've started a new fic called Love Will Lead Us. The prologue is up and it's very, very short. Take a gander if you're interested.
> 
> I've been thinking about writing you guys a little outtake - for my reviewers. Maybe a nice, loving Edward and Bella lemon. Sweet sex with no bullshit - no guilt. No unhealthy choices. No Felix tainting it. Would you like to see that? Let me know. Also, like I said, this chapter was tough for me to articulate. Let me know how I did?


	15. Epilogue - Daughters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: These beautiful creatures belong to Stephenie Meyer.

_**"Fathers, be good to your daughters** _ **  
** _**Daughters will love like you do** _ **  
** _**Girls become lovers who turn into mothers** _ **  
** _**So mothers, be good to your daughters too."** _

_**-Daughters, John Mayer** _

**10 Years later**

"What is it?" Edward said immediately when he saw her. He had taken one step in the door and paused. Bella, when she got home before he did, was almost always fluttering with energy. He had come home to find her cleaning. He had come home to find her on the phone, gesticulating with excitement or irritation or concern. He had come home to find her at the computer; her hair up in a sloppy bun and her reading glasses on her face making her look like a sexy college co-ed.

But when he came home and she was on the couch, he could sense that something was off. At first, he didn't know why his heart wrenched and sped. Edward couldn't understand why his throat tightened and his breath became ragged. It was an old feeling he had not had in a long time.

Fear.

When Bella didn't acknowledge him, he forced himself to process his emotions. It was the way she was sitting that was setting off the alarm bells in his mind. Her legs were drawn up tight to her chest and she was resting her head on her knees, staring away from him. She was fetal.

Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Edward crossed the room and stood to the side of the couch. "Bella? Sweetheart?" he asked gently.

This time she acknowledged him. She raised her head and looked into his eyes. He was shocked by what he saw. The fear he felt in his chest was reflecting back at him through her eyes. She was scared. So very scared. She hadn't looked at him with those eyes in years. She opened her mouth but no words came out at first. She closed her mouth and bit her lip, swallowing once hard before trying again.

"I'm pregnant," she whispered so softly Edward thought he must have imagined it.

Then he stood completely still; even the air around him seemed to grow quiet before his world exploded with the noise of his thoughts. Every emotion imaginable hit him all at once. Shock. Fear. Hope. Anxiety. Wonder. He felt it all, all at once.

Paramount to every other emotion was a deep, profound sense of joy. It hit him so hard he couldn't breathe. He wanted this. He hadn't really thought much about it until that point but now that it was on his horizon he wanted it so badly it was a physical need in him.

Then, his mind started working again. He realized that Bella did not look happy. Far from it - she looked completely anguished. She had lowered her head back into her hands, her body shaking with sobs.

Again, Edward took a moment to reorient himself and his emotions. He was confused. He and Bella had not yet discussed children, and it was a shock to be sure, but he never would have guessed that she would be so ... heartbroken about finding herself pregnant. Bella loved kids. She had devoted her life to working for kids, in fact. She was a child advocate attorney for the state who specialized in child abuse cases. Edward was always in awe of the delicate way she treated each of her clients - all children who had been horribly wronged. She spoke for those who had no voice.

He sat beside her on the couch and was relieved when she instantly shifted, laying her head on his chest and gripping his shirt in her hands. His arms automatically went around her and he waited for her to speak.

"It's too much. A new life that we can destroy if we fuck it up? What if I can't do this? What if  _we_ can't do this? What if he broke me?" she said in a small voice. "I don't know how to do this."

Edward moved, tracing her cheek and the rim of her earlobe with gentle fingers. "No, baby. You're not broken. You know how strong you are. Look at everything you've done, everything you've accomplished. You've made so many people's lives better. You're going to be a great mom, sweetheart."

Bella felt a surge of hope and a love so intense that she couldn't breathe for a moment. Mom. She turned the word over in her mind. She had no real concept of what it meant to be a mother. Yes, she had had Esme in her life for twelve years now. She had seen what a real mother acted like, but so much of her had been molded before she ever knew Esme. Raised by a father until thirteen, and then living under James' roof for three years. How could she possibly know how to be someone's mother? A fresh wave of tears broke over her.

"Bella," Edward said softly, stroking her hair. He spoke the next words carefully. "Sweetheart, if you're not ready to have a baby, then you don't have to have a baby. We can take care of it, if that's what you want."

Bella sucked in a quick breath, her hands instinctively going to her stomach, as if she could protect her baby.

Not needing her to say it out loud, Edward smiled, pressing a gentle kiss against her forehead, then on her cheek. He shifted, bringing the hand that was not wrapped around her shoulders to rest over hers on her belly. "I'm really scared too, Bella. But we can do this." He pressed another kiss along her ear, whispering. "Can't you see it? We'll do everything with her. All the things that we didn't get, she'll have."

Bella smiled in spite of herself. "You think it's a girl?"

"I hope it's a girl," Edward said, nuzzling her neck with his nose. "A perfect girl, with your eyes, and your beautiful smile."

"And your hair," she whispered back, unconsciously running her thumbs over her flat stomach. Very suddenly, the child forming inside of her became utterly real. Tangible. Bella could picture her fair skin and her arms ached to hold her baby close. She let out a small laugh, a new torrent of tears coming over her. They weren't scared tears anymore. She was in awe.

Edward wiped the tears from her face with the back of his hand and Bella looked up tentatively. She saw the excitement in Edward's eyes. He was trying to hold it back but he was happy. "We're going to do this," she told him, reassuring herself more than she was reassuring him.

"Yeah?" he asked, his smile spreading.

Bella sniffled and smiled back, letting his excitement spread to her. "Yeah. Oh, my God. Edward. I'm pregnant." She blinked repeatedly, trying to come to terms with how those two words had changed her entire world.

Cupping her cheek with one hand, Edward leaned in and kissed her and kissed her and kissed her. His love for her had only grown with time and every challenge they had faced together. Now, with one hand on her face and the other entwined with hers over their child, his love seemed to double. It was almost painful - like his human body was too fragile to hold it. He didn't have the words to describe his current state of mind so he kissed her until they were both breathless and hoped she just knew.

Later that night they were lying together in their bed, skin to skin. Edward's hands were at her belly again, stroking the skin there with unadulterated pride and wonder. A sniffle alerted him to the fact that Bella was crying. He lifted his eyes and one hand, wiping away her tears. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," she assured him. Then she giggled quietly because she was so much more than okay. She pursed her lips. "All of these tears... I was remembering that there was a time when I thought it was normal to cry every single day."

Edward ran his hand through her hair. "We've come a long way from then. We worked so hard to get here."

For a long while neither of them said anything, both looking back on the road they had traveled; the trials and the twists and turns they had overcome.

There were those moments that the road almost seemed impassible.

Bella had suffered a severely frustrating relapse during her college career. After filling every spare moment of her remaining high school career with night courses, correspondence courses, and summer school, Bella had managed to graduate on time with Edward and Alice. Not wanting to push herself while she adjusted to life as an adult, she had enrolled in a small number of courses at the community college while she continued to volunteer at the boys and girls shelter. She had gotten to her last semester before she could transfer to a full University and had suddenly started failing her courses again.

Frustrated, she dropped all of her classes that semester.

It had taken all of her strength to enroll in the same classes one semester later. She hated that she had been set back entire months.

Edward's parents had been released from prison when he was twenty-one. He had thought he was over any anger he felt toward them. His parents lived with Edward and Bella for a time, but the house eventually became too chaotic. There was too much screaming and bickering. As it turned out, that was the beginning of a whole new round of issues he had buried deep and pushed to the side.

Jasper had suffered a major crisis of self shortly after he graduated from the University of Washington with a degree in History. He was unsure about everything – from the man he had become to the career he'd chosen. He'd started down a dangerous road – drinking too much and thinking too little.

They had all conquered their demons, time and again.

With every bump and twist, there was a sweet moment of triumph to go with it.

Bella remembered very clearly the day she'd stood in front of her closet, remembering when it made sense to press herself into the small space underneath her hanging clothes. Curious, she tried laid down the way she used to.

It felt weird.

Emily helped her identify this feeling with a normal, healthy thought process. Jasper and Edward had similar revelations. Jasper had tried to think about the train again – about suicide in general – only to find the thought had become abhorrent. Edward had similarly tried drawing on his skin, across his veins like he used to. He said the marks looked intensely wrong.

Tangible evidence at how much better they were.

Laying there together, after over a decade of healing and not only surviving, but thriving, Edward and Bella let themselves imagine they were well enough to take on this next step in their lives. They were both realistic people, and knew that they would stumble – but they wouldn't fall. They were both too strong and loved by too many amazing people for that.

When Bella's pregnancy was five months along, they invited Jasper to be there for the ultrasound. "Look at that," Jasper murmured wondrously when the baby shaped blur appeared on the monitor. "You know, I think that has to be the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." When he turned to Edward and Bella there were tears in his eyes. He looked at Edward first, his smile wide and proud, taking up most of his face. "You're having a baby, man!"

"Excuse you?" Bella protested in mock offense. "I'm the one who's having trouble fitting into my jeans now, and I'm the one with the cold goo on my belly and I'm the one who's got to do the whole labor thing. What's this  _he's_ having a baby nonsense?"

Laughing, Edward leaned down and kissed her forehead. "You're incredible, you know."

Jasper's grin became soft and adoring. He squeezed Bella's hand and she smiled back at him.

The ultrasound technician smiled at them indulgently. "Would you like to know the sex?"

"Yes!" Jasper exclaimed before Edward or Bella could reply. They both gave him a look. "Sorry. I made a bet with Emmett. I just want to know if I won," he grinned incorrigibly.

Edward rolled his eyes. "Yes, please tell us," he told the technician.

"Congratulations kids, looks like you're having a girl," the woman announced.

Edward and Jasper both let out giddy whoops. "Told you," Edward whispered to Bella, kissing her with unabashed passion.

Four months later, Esme Alice Masen was born. Even though it was the middle of the night, the waiting room was full when Edward appeared in the doorway with a grin so wide that his smile threatened to split his face. Mae-Mae, as they called her, came into an instant family, all of whom would be there for her from the day she was born. Esme was in the delivery room with Edward and Bella. Elizabeth and Edward Masen Sr., Carlisle, Jasper and Alice, Emmett and Rosalie and their two little boys, Kyle and Kevin, filled the waiting room with their cheers and congratulations.

A couple of days later they took her home. It was getting toward evening and everyone had left the little family alone except for Jasper. It took some coaxing, but Edward managed to convince Bella that he and Jasper would be fine with Mae-Mae for a little while, so she could get some sleep.

After he had followed Bella to their bedroom to tuck her in and make sure she actually laid down, Edward came back out to the living room and lifted Mae-Mae out of Jasper's arms. He slid onto the floor, his back against the couch and his knees drawn up close to his body. He laid his daughter down so she was propped up against his bent legs and he watched her; he stared.

"You look scared, man," Jasper said softly, sitting carefully beside his friend and tilting his head to look at the baby.

Edward let out a sharp bark of laughter, causing the little girl's eyes to move – trying to find the source of the noise. He stroked the downy hair on her head with the pad of a single finger. "I'm terrified," he admitted in a whisper. "Jasper, I've never wanted to do something right so badly in my entire life."

They were both quiet for a moment. Jasper reached out, tugging the mitten from the baby's tiny fist. She flailed her arms in response and he put a single finger in her palm. Mae-Mae squeezed instinctively and Jasper chuffed – the feel of her soft, warm, tiny, and feather light grip filling his heart. He understood what Edward meant. He wanted the world for his little niece and she wasn't even his – not by blood or birthright.

"I don't think there is a right," he said out loud. "Your parents thought they were doing their best to take care of you by providing for you in any way they could, to the point that you ended up landing…well, with me. Bella's dad thought he was doing right by shielding her from all the ugliness in the world, but that made it all the harder when she was face to face with it. And my mother…she made me her life…she got better for me, stronger. She broke the cycle, but she forgot to break the ties."

Jasper shook his head. "There's no right. They loved us. Don't try to do the right thing, Edward. Just love her with everything you have and don't repeat our parents' mistakes." He squeezed the baby's hand between two of his fingers and smiled. "You always were the best at making something beautiful out of nothing, you know."

Edward had to smile because it was true. His little girl was gorgeous. She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen - save perhaps for her mother. Too much beauty and he wasn't quite sure he deserved either of them, but he knew he would never take any of it for granted. He leaned in and kissed Mae-Mae's tiny, downy head. "I love you, little girl."

A little less than three years after Mae-Mae was born, Alice gave birth to her and Jasper's first child; a boy they named Brandon Edward Whitlock.

It was then that Jasper started to think about his father again.

Brandon owned Jasper from the moment he was born. Holding him for the first time, Jasper could not fathom ever walking away the way his father had.

He knew from watching Edward and Bella and Emmett and Rosalie that it wasn't easy to raise a child. He knew that Brandon would test his patience and offer him challenges he could not even imagine. Jasper also knew that he would have to be more careful than a lot of other parents – because as much as he couldn't imagine ever wanting to harm his child, he also knew that he was hardwired to snap.

But Jasper had something that James never did. He had the knowledge that every struggle was worth it.

He had seen it every time he watched Mae-Mae's eyes light up when Edward came into a room. He had seen it when she threw her arms around his neck and called him 'Daddy' and told him that she loved him.

He had watched Emmett rough-house with his twin sons; watched them wrestle and watched him teach them how to play baseball and ride bikes. He had watched the pride in the older man's eyes as he watched his sons learn from him.

Jasper wanted all of that. All of it, and every moment after. He wanted to watch his son grow into a boy and into a teenager and into a man.

Hardly a day that went by, even with the sleepless nights and the worrying, that Jasper didn't understand what a gift his son was.

There was that part of Jasper that wanted to completely erase his father's existence from his memory, but he knew he couldn't because if he did he was erasing every lesson his father taught him by example. James' lessons were valuable in that they taught him what  _not_ to do.

Because there was a part of Jasper that still hated his father, that part of him wanted desperately to make sure his own son never felt the same of him.

As months went on and Jasper grappled with his father's abandonment and subsequent poor treatment, it seemed almost inevitable that the specter of the past wouldn't remain so insubstantial forever.

When Brandon was around five months old, Edward, Bella, and Mae-Mae were visiting one afternoon when Edward happened to glance out the window.

"What the fuck?" he growled, his face suddenly tense and furious.

Bella lifted her head to arch an eyebrow over his language but then she froze, seeing what he was staring at outside the large picture windows.

James had pulled up in a beat up truck.

He was, of course, aged and changed. They had all known he got out of prison a number of years previous – first time drug charges with no prior record; they hadn't been able to hold him for as long as anyone was comfortable with.

Alice took a step back from the window with Brandon in her arms and watched as Jasper's face became a mask of fury. Both his and Edward's hands were clenched into fists. They started toward the door in unison.

"Edward!" Bella called, scooping up their daughter from where she was playing on the floor. She shifted the little girl into Edward's arms, effectively keeping him there. He stared at her and she stared back, her eyes just as hard and furious.

This was Jasper's home and Jasper's father. It was his right to face the monster alone. They were all behind him.

With this knowledge, Jasper was out the door in a matter of seconds. He slammed it behind him, trying to keep the anger that rolled through him at bay. "What the hell do you think you're doing here?"

James narrowed his eyes. "Don't you speak to me that way, boy."

Jasper scoffed, incredulous. "This is my house and my property - which you are trespassing on by the way. I will speak to you any way I please. You're not welcome here."

"You always were a melodramatic son of a bitch," James sneered. "I have things to talk about,  _Jasper,_ " he seemed to spit his son's name. "Now, be polite and invite me inside."

"If you think I'm letting you around my son or their daughter you're insane," Jasper retorted, his anger flaring.

Surprisingly, James' lips quirked. "I'm a grandfather?"

"No," Jasper responded, furious at the very thought. "You're nothing to my son. He already has the only grandfather he'll ever need. Carlisle Cullen is the only man in my life who was ever worthy of that title."

James' face contorted again, losing the momentary gentleness from a moment before. "I see what this is. Jesus Christ, I knew that soft mother fucker would undo any good I ever did you. I can't imagine the bullshit he put in your head."

Jasper saw red. He had to remind himself of every conversation he had with Sam and Emily – how he had spent years understanding why James said the things he said and did the things he did. It was all about manipulation and control.

Jasper knew that if he lost his temper and punched his father in the face as he so desperately wanted to, he would be giving James all the control. Again.

"What is it you want?" he forced out through gritted teeth.

"All I want is what belongs to me," James snapped, crossing his arms. "I don't know what you told your grandfather to make him do what he did, but I want what's mine."

Then Jasper understood why James was here. He wasn't interested in reconciling or righting past wrongs. Jonathan Whitlock – Jasper's paternal grandfather whom he had never met, had died a few weeks previous, surprising everyone by leaving Jasper with a sizable inheritance.

"Well, sorry there,  _dad_ ," Jasper drawled, "but it seems to me that you took the money my mother left  _me._ I don't owe you a g'damned thing."

"You self-entitled little shit," James fumed. "After all the bullshit you and your little girlfriends put me through. Do you know how hard it has been for me to find a job after you pulled your shit and landed me in prison? Let alone the people in that fucking town who think I abused the three of you," he sneered. "You're a pathetic excuse for a son."

Jasper just chuffed and shook his head. "I never would have been good enough for you - any more than you were good enough for your father. Maybe that's why he left you nothing," he said lowly.

James narrowed his eyes, the look on his face the same one that had made Jasper cower too many times in his youth. James took a threatening step forward and Jasper didn't hesitate to step right into his path. He stood up straight, eye to eye with the man responsible for his birth. "You raise your hand to me and I swear I will knock you flat on your ass." Jasper's voice was deadly serious. He wasn't that boy anymore. He knew how to defend himself and he was twenty years younger than the old man his father had become.

Seeing the look in his son's eyes James took an automatic step back.

An odd sense of calm settled over Jasper then, and when he spoke his voice was steady. "Get off this property. I don't want to see your face again. Not ever."

Though Jasper saw it killed him to do it – to feel so powerless over the man he'd once lorded over – James backed down. He got in his truck and drove away, tires squealing. Whether or not he was gone for good, Jasper had stood up to his father without being knocked down for the first time in his life.

He didn't quite know how to feel about that.

When James' truck was out of eyesight and earshot, Jasper turned robotically and went back into the house. Without speaking he pulled Alice and his son to him, holding them tightly, and then did the same with Edward, Bella and little Mae-Mae.

Jasper needed time to process his chaotic thoughts. He sat in his study for long hours, just thinking.

He was drawn out of his thoughts by the sudden realization that it was dark outside. He ran a hand over his eyes and got to his feet, needing his family. He found them in his son's nursery. Alice was holding Brandon over her shoulder, crooning softly as he squalled restlessly. Jasper leaned in the doorway watching them for a moment before Alice turned.

"Hey, baby," she said, smiling.

He smiled back, the anxiety he'd been feeling easing as he took a few steps and drew them both into his arms. "How's my boy?"

"Restless," Alice murmured, rocking the baby in her arms soothingly. "He won't settle down."

Brandon whimpered quietly, his wide eyes on Jasper as he fussed. "Come here, buddy," Jasper soothed. He took the baby from Alice's arms and settled him into the crook of his own before sitting on the couch in the room. Alice sat beside him, head on his shoulder.

Jasper bounced the baby slightly, trying to get him to settle. Brandon stared back at him with worried eyes and Jasper wondered how much of his restlessness was borne of the emotion he'd picked up from his tense surroundings.

A movement out of the corner of his eye distracted Jasper from his disgruntled thoughts. He looked up and saw through the window of the house next door was a head of long bronze hair bouncing around the room. The window to Brandon's nursery was lined up directly with Mae-Mae's bedroom window. Mae-Mae climbed onto her new "big girl" bed and started to hop on it. A second later, Jasper watched Edward come into her room and grab the girl mid-bounce.

Bella came in right afterward and the family settled on the little girl's bed, Edward and Bella on either side of their daughter's tiny form. Edward looked up, catching Jasper's eye and giving him a smile as Bella retrieved a large child's book from the nightstand.

Jasper watched for a moment longer as Edward and Bella read to their daughter. Then he turned back to his son and felt a surreal sense of peace spread over him. He remembered when this was all just a fantasy – a beautiful dream that his head conjured up to cope with the chaos and darkness that his home life was.

But it was here, and it was real. His son was a solid weight in his arms – tangible, and so beautiful. Alice's warm body was pressed against his – the love he felt for her was stronger than ever, and somehow she felt the same for him. Next door his best friends were safe and happy. Nearby he had a family he never could have predicted – a brother and sister and nephews. A mother who loved him as well as his own would have, and a man who had taught him what a real father looked like.

Brandon squalled again and Jasper shushed him gently. "It's okay, beautiful boy," he whispered to his son, rocking him. He sang the words in his heart as a lullaby to lull his beautiful boy to sleep. "Close your eyes, have no fear. The monster's gone; he's on the run and your daddy's here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The song Jasper's singing is John Lennon's "Beautiful Boy" and it's gorgeous.
> 
> Oh my. I apologize in advance for the length of this author's note and beg your indulgence.
> 
> First things first. I told you from the get go that everything I wrote about in this fic was based in reality. This is very much the case. Child abuse is real and it happens in every kind of neighborhood, in every kind of home. Even when the events I wrote about didn't happen to me - they happened to someone.
> 
> Here is some information for you:
> 
> The phone number for the Childhelp National Child Abuse Hotline is 1-800-4-A-CHILD.
> 
> You can use this number to both report abuse, ask any questions you have about abuse, and get more information. If you press option 2, you will be able to request literature if you want more information in general.
> 
> Unless you want something mailed to you – no one is going to ask for your name.
> 
> If you can catch it on Lifetime, For the Love of a Child is a heartbreaking and amazing story of the two women who founded Childhelp. You can also read about their history here: /full_history
> 
> Childhelp.org is full of great information, actually.
> 
> However, I do also find this page helpful and informative:
> 
> /mental/child_abuse_physical_emotional_sexual_
> 
> I've read so many books I can't begin to tell you about all of them. I think the easiest place to start, if you're interested in reading personal stories of survival and all the effects of child abuse, is with the two books that started my journey. One is 'A Child Called It' – a very simple to read book about a boy who is abused by his mother. The other is 'Sybil' which is also an amazing movie about a woman who was also abused by her mother to the extent that her subconscious shatters into multiple personalities. Dissociative Identity Disorder is one of the more extreme reactions to abuse.
> 
> Random, but if you've ever felt alone, this website helps. And it's fascinating. . They update every Sunday.
> 
> Also - I'm not afraid to talk about my personal experiences or anything I've written about here. So please, if you need someone to listen or anything really, I'm extremely open. I don't really have secrets.
> 
> Alright. You've been warned... the following is probably going to get a little mushy.
> 
> Things I've learned since writing this fic:
> 
> 1) Runaway Train is probably the only song that will make me cry every single fucking time and I REALLY should stop listening to it on loop.
> 
> 2) You can really, I mean REALLY, hate your own fictional characters.
> 
> 3) I have the best readers in the entire fandom. Seriously.
> 
> I don't know that I have the words to tell you what all of your support and your heartfelt reviews have meant to me. This story was incredibly difficult to write, not only because of the subject matter - and my God, I hated doing the things I did to characters that I love so much - but because a lot of it was so entirely personal. I was scared - SO scared, because a lot of the emotions and reactions were mine, and me and you can't imagine how weak you can feel. I never wanted my characters to be weak. I wanted them to be strong because I want to be strong. So when I started to get the reviews back that I did - just filled with support and beautiful words... I can't tell you what it means to me.
> 
> To all of you who hoped this was a therapeutic experience - it was. Thank you. It got out some of the poison, and your words are like salve on old, raw wounds.
> 
> To those of you who have said I've helped them...First. I'm sorry. Because no one should have to go through anything like this. I don't mean to sound all rainbows and flowers but the bottom line is that you are worth it and you are lovable. Second...the thought that I've helped anyone with my words is...profound to me. I'm so, so glad if you've found any source of comfort at all in my words. Other people's words are what saved me as I didn't have anyone to survive with or for. I was alone. So I'm thankful if it helped even one person.
> 
> To CellaCullen and DizzyGrl28 who have been with me every single moment of this - who heard every panicked thought and never, ever lost patience with me. This fic wouldn't exist at all if they weren't there to encourage me to write it in the first place. To JadedandBoring - waking up to her comments in my Gdoc was often the best part about writing every chapter. To tellingmelies who gave me feedback when I needed it most on these last few chapters. I love them. And they're insanely talented - totes.
> 
> Reviewers get an E/B lemon - not because I'm bribing you, but because I just - NEED to do something for you. Sorry for the mush, but you have no idea what you mean to me. Thank you for taking this journey with me. I hope that the happily ever after was what you wanted it to be.
> 
> Talk to me people. Let me know. I love you.


	16. Outtake: The First Time That Should Have Been

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So, I had been sending this out to anyone who reviewed. Lately, though, I've been HORRIBLE at review replies, so I'm just posting it. Again - to the people who've taken time to review this story, just know that you made my day every single time. This takes place shortly after Bella's Chapter ends, and obviously YEARS before the epilogue.

"We're alone in the house," Bella observed shortly after Esme and Carlisle had wished them a good afternoon and evening. Alice and Jasper were on an all expense paid trip to the deep South that had been Esme and Carlisle's graduation present to Jasper. Esme and Carlisle were attending some function or another and Bella had only a morning class at summer school for that particular day.

Edward sat on her bed, pulling her down beside him. "You're very observant today," he teased, putting his arms around her.

Bella bit her lip.

She had been thinking about sex. A lot.

Edward seemed content to take things at her pace . He had definitely seemed pleased at the dry humping and light petting they'd done.

They hadn't really talked about their first time. Which meant they hadn't really talked about their next time.

Bella was very interested in their next time at this point.

"It doesn't happen very often," she hedged.

Edward furrowed his eyebrows, knowing she was holding something back. "Talk to me, Bella," he requested.

Bella sighed. He could read her so well. She sat up against the headboard and he copied her motions, sitting with their sides pressed together.

"I wish -" Bella cut off. She took a deep breath, frustrated with herself for being so nervous. This was Edward. She could trust Edward. "I was thinking about our - our first time," she said in a rush. She felt her face grow hot and she continued. "I mean - I was just wondering... if things had been normal, how it would have happened."

"Oh, Bella," Edward said softly, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and trailing his fingers through her hair. "There is so much I would have loved to have given you." He kissed her softly, brushing his lips against hers before applying any pressure. "We would have talked about it first."

"Talk?" she asked, her voice breathy and somewhat distracted by his featherlight kisses.

"Talking is important. If I had known sex was what you wanted, I could have asked you a lot. Like if you would be more comfortable if you were on top," he explained.

She shook her head. "I wanted you on top. I want you on top now. I know that's boring..."

He interrupted her by placing a finger on her lips. "It's not boring, Bella. It's not like I've had anymore sex than you have. You see what I mean about talking?" He kissed her nose. "We fit together well, baby." He kissed her forehead. "We'll learn together. I'm not in any rush, okay?"

She nodded. "Okay." She hesitated. "Edward? Was it what you wanted?" she asked, unsure if she really wanted the answer.

He stroked her cheek soothingly. "What I wanted was you. I didn't know that you were ready - and yeah, I know now that neither of us really were. I wanted to give you something other than James ' house but that doesn't change the fact that I love you. I want you. All of you. No conditions." He looked her square in the eye, speaking slowly to make sure every word sank in. "It has always been you, Bella. Ever since I've known what sex was I've wanted it to be you. That's what really matters."

Her eyes flickered nervously for a moment, but what she saw written all over his face was undeniable. He loved her. He wanted her.

And she was ready. "I want you now. I'm ready now," she said quietly. "If you are."

She laid back into the pillows, her hands resting palm up by her head. It was a passive position. She was giving all of herself - including her trust - to him.

Edward swallowed thickly and as he searched her eyes. He couldn't see any trepidation there. She wasn't pushing herself. She just was. She was there and his and he loved her. He could see the love reflected back at him in the depths of her eyes.

He thought again about their first time and had to fight back a grimace at how fast it had been - how fast  _he_ had been. At the time it had been hard to process. One moment she was holding back the next her shirt was off and her breasts were there. He almost didn't realize what was happening before he was inside her and she was wincing in pain.

 _Not this time._ He thought vehemently.

He drew his fingers down the bridge of her nose, lingering at the tip. She watched him through hooded eyes, her lips open just the slightest amount as she took even breaths. He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand, enjoying the feel of the light flush he saw there, and when his knuckle passed over her lips she kissed it softly.

Edward leaned down, kissing her slowly and softly while his hand stroked her cheek. He was in no rush. This is what their first time should have been like - soft, slow, tender.

Bella lifted one hand and ran her fingers through his hair. It felt amazing.

Without breaking their kiss or stopping the way their tongues languidly tangled together, Edward put his hand on the first buttoned button of her shirt. He waited. When she didn't tense, he deftly undid that button. He waited again, resting the pads of his fingers on her exposed skin. She shivered, but only from the titillating feeling of his light touch.

Encouraged, Edward undid the next button. Then the third. Then the last.

Bella had moved her lips to his chin where she was pressing tiny kisses as he tried to make himself calm down. He was getting way too excited over the prospect of her bare flesh and he wanted to be gentle.

Tentatively, he moved his hand to cover her belly. Bella let out a soft gasp. His feather light touches were driving her crazy.

In a very, very good way.

Edward smirked, recognizing the flush on her face. She was still here with him and she was turned on.

As his hands moved up her torso to her breasts he could feel how turned on she was. Her nipples were straining against her simple white bra. He paused again, pulling back minutely to gauge her comfort, but she followed him, kissing him hungrily now.

A little slightly awkward wrestling and she was out of her clothes completely. Edward could feel her heart hammering against her chest but the look in her eyes was nervous - not ashamed. She bit her lip, watching his eyes travel over her bare body.

He kissed her hard until she was breathless. "You're so beautiful," he murmured against her ear.

Bella felt a thrill of lust, love and passion go through her. She allowed herself a brief moment to relish the fact that, once again, when he was kissing her, she honestly felt beautiful.

Then Edward laid down beside her, assuming the same passive position she had. Bella smiled, realizing what he was doing. She propped herself up on her elbow and cupped his cheek as she kissed him. Her hands moved to the hem of his shirt and he helped her tug it off.

A little shy, and flushed red, Bella explored Edward's skin with her hands. She loved finding sensitive spots that made him gasp or moan. She loved that she could elicit that response from him.

When they had worked themselves up into something of a tizzy, Bella laid back down on the bed, tugging Edward over with her. With his body pressing against hers - all her warmth and soft curves just so good beneath him - it was difficult for Edward to stop, but he had to know.

"Bella, we don't - " he started.

"Edward Masen I swear if you stop right now I'm going to ... do... something." It was hard to think with him surrounding her like he was.

Edward smirked at her. "Something, hmm?" he teased, the tense moment completely erased. "Like what?"

She growled at him and he pressed tiny kisses against her lips, pressing his teeth into her skin without biting down in quick nips. "Anything I can think of threatening you with involves parts of you I'd rather not endanger," she whispered between kisses.

He laughed. She giggled.

He reached between them to guide his cock to her entrance, teasing her skin lightly with it. He reclaimed her lips as he pushed inside of her slowly.

Edward shuddered, loving how being buried in her felt like home. Bella moaned against his lips, feeling filled and complete. There was a little discomfort - it had been so long and it was, after all, only their second time. Any discomfort was easily overridden though by the intense emotion that passed between them as Edward started moving inside of her. His thrusts were slow and he kept eye contact with her the entire time.

And Bella knew. This is what it was to make love.

The sensation of pleasure traveled through her and enveloped her - surrounded them both.

Bella drew her knees up, sliding her legs up along Edward's sides, moving her hips in time with his. They didn't speak or kiss, just watched each other with love and delight. They each savored the look of the other - both awash in a light sheen of sweat and the flushed glow of their lovemaking.

In their bubble of intensity they were rewriting old associations. Where sex had once been connected to the emotions of guilt, fear and even shame, that afternoon they overwrote all of that with pleasure, passion and most definitely love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS - they are being safe, just fyi. Esme and Carlisle aren't dumb-shits. They put Alice and Bella on birth control cuz, yea, sorry their boyfriends live in the same fucking house. LOL.
> 
> Thanks to Twanza for looking this over for mistakes.


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